


The World Is The Distraction

by MariekoWest



Series: DB✦Retrouvaille [1]
Category: Dragon Ball Z, GohanxPiccolo
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark and Ideologically Sensitive Themes, Expletives, Flangst and Smuff, Gothic Erotic, Graphic Sex, High School, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Lemon, Lime, M/M, NSFW, Other, Shounen-ai, Smut, Tragedy, Uke Gohan, Uke Piccolo, Utopia vs Dystopia, Yaoi, チチ, トランクス, ドラゴンボール, ビーデル•サタン, ピッコロさんのエロ, ピッコロ受け, ピッコロ大魔王ＪＲ/ピッコロさん, ブルマ•ブリーフ, ベジータ, 孫悟空, 孫悟飯ＪＲ, 少年愛, 悟飯受け, 飯Ｐ
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6578005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariekoWest/pseuds/MariekoWest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gohan and Piccolo are reborn as strangers in a world where there is no longer a need for fighting and wars. Or so everyone is made to think. Will this new world allow their souls to remember?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flutterby'd

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of fluff, but the angst outweighs it. Scattered bittersweet lemons and most likely even some non-consensual violent ones eventually. My first GohanxPiccolo AU series. ♥︎ (The underage warning is only to be safe. Piccolo is 13 here & Gohan is turning 15. By DBZ standards that's not "kid age" anymore.)

_Like sun and fire. Like dream and sleep._

_Like a dark bird's flight-- through a forest deep._

_Two streams, we die. In the open sea._

_Like destiny--_

_Like destiny._

-Fever

(Rivermaya)

* * *

  _A flash of brilliant colour in his peripheral vision makes him forget._

_Forget to keep on running; forget that he shouldn’t be stopping to look back—_

_Completely forget not to let his curiosity get the best of him._

_By the time his eyes recapture what has seduced his mind, he was already deeply entranced by the batting of spritely yellow chartaceous wings, anointing its ethereal green perch with flurried feathery kisses._

_Long forgetting that his lips shouldn’t be parted in soundless awe, nor should his feet be rooted to the spot; body tethered by an emphatic gust of wind, drowning all of him in sweet nostalgic petrichor._

_And even the need to breathe, he doesn't remember--_

_As in that eternal moment, he altogether forgets forever…_

_The existence of a world beyond clear translucent lapis-lazuli delicately being unveiled…_

**-x-**

 

It’s been over a month since his first year of senior high school started at Orange Star Intergalactic Academy. Being younger than most students in the same level because of his exceptional academic achievements didn’t dampen his popularity one bit. And he was not only smart and popular; according to most of his admirers (and his mother), he wasn’t at all bad looking either.

Truth be told, he didn’t really care much for any of those things. Up until a month ago, he has always believed that he’s lived a rather normal, and even frightfully uneventful life. And though the routine bored him to death at times, he didn’t really mind as long as his parents were happy, and the world was at peace. He knew that this “peace” they were now enjoying was far from perfect, but it was the most of the word that the Planet Earth has been proudly able to realize, after being buffeted by centuries of brutal wars. The world they lived in now has gone a long way and part of the reason for this newfound order was the strictly enforced eradication of any form of bigotry and violence. The history books he so obsessively poured over were enough to make him bear and tuck away the occasional restless desiderium for what exactly– he didn’t really know, and couldn’t quite pin down just yet. He just knew that he was grateful for and satisfied with his life. He had to be.

But that was a month ago; before that day he was running late for the very first time in his whole monotonous life, and saw a stranger seated beneath the shade of a late-blooming cherry blossom tree; book in lap. A month ago, when entirely by chance their eyes met and time stood still. And though it was that same day a month ago wherein for the first time he didn’t make it to class before the morning bell rang— he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything else except the fact that the said stranger happened to be their new classmate.

And since then, everything that once was his featureless unremarkable life- has now become _pure inscrutable internally supercharged chaos_.

 

**\--------x--------**

  
0 **  
Flutterby'd  
**

  
**\--------x--------**

 

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

Gohan Son Jr was startled out of his reverie.

“I think everyone knows about your not-so-little “crush” on him by now, except well… _you._ ”

At that, the ebony-haired youth balked flustered, shushing her. “He’ll hear you!” he hissed. “Nameks have very keen ears!”

Videl Satan studied the said Namek across the room who had his eyes closed albeit his upright posture and crossed arms.

“Is it a secret?” she whispered back.

“I- I…” Gohan honestly couldn’t put together a coherent sentence in his mind, so he settled for a sigh. After some moments, he gives up, deciding to simply speak his mind. “I don’t know if you can call it a crush… I just think he looks really cool, that’s all…”

Videl only continued to eye her classmate expectantly, somewhat amused at how he couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. She felt that he was terribly understating the facts. His actions for the past three weeks were consistently that of a goo-goo eyed lovesick girl. She would know. Gohan was always ogling at their Namekian classmate the way his lovesick admirers were always ogling at him (she– secretly being one of them).

“Besides I don’t want to scare him with something as stupid as that,” Gohan added ducking his head low as if the action made his whispering any less conspicuous.

“What’s so stupid about being in love?” And besides, she thought sparing the brooding Namek another furtive glance, it certainly didn’t seem like he was the type to scare easily.

“…L-l-love?!” Gohan sputtered a bit too loudly, causing several heads to turn in his direction (those that weren’t already on him), including that of his teacher’s.

“Mr Son, I take it you’ve already completed your seatwork?”

“Errr…”

“Come forward and write the answer to question number one through five on the board for us, if you please.”

Gohan stood up stiffly, and head hanging low, made his way to the front where the blackboard was.

 

It was at that moment that Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. opened his eyes, training them on the board; intending to see if they had the same answer. Inevitably his eyes wandered to Gohan himself, or rather– Gohan’s back- and his tall lanky form. It was impossible not to notice by now, how for some reason this boy was always staring at him. He knew that even if a melange of races had been co-inhabiting the Earth for some decades now, he still tended to stick out like a sore green thumb at times. He could only surmise that it was because he was much taller than average –Earthling, Namek, or otherwise (especially since he was only thirteen years old). Or possibly because Nameks of his class were so rare. Even when he was younger he was forced to get used to exorbitant attention from other aliens –both the flattering and not-so-flattering kind. But rarely did any of those who took interest in him ever come from the human-esque species such as native Earthlings, Tsufurujins, or Saiyajins. His curiosity about why the popular boy would be exceptionally interested in him was piqued. Was he a specimen to the brainy boy? Did he want to study him? Or did he simply find him atypical? He inwardly snorted. Not that he wasn’t used to that by now. People giving him condescending –if not scared– looks. But then again, the look he often caught on the boy’s face was _not_ that kind of stare. It was strangely specific— the kind that was akin to the looks past suitors would give him. He felt mortified as a hot blush crept into his cheeks, and he mentally shook his head. Though he didn’t mean to, he heard a good deal of the conversation that just transpired between the boy and the human female. Still, he found it beyond belief that any human could like him _that way_. Impossible.

Gohan –head still lowered- shyly returned to his seat, as Videl was called for the next answer. And the other students were then called one after the other. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He had to get it together! But the idea that the girl sitting behind him had put in his head ( _Veedee, right?_ He was bad at remembering names)— the idea that he didn’t even dare consider, was growing faster than a virus in his mind.

_Love…_

Oh. Oh. It couldn’t be. He tried to mentally laugh it off but immediately snapped to attention when Piccolo’s name was called and the said Namek coolly stood up to write the final set of answers to the seatwork problem on the board.

Gohan instinctively held his breath as Piccolo passed his aisle seat in the centre of the room. He could almost feel his heart leap out of his chest when he caught a whiff of fresh tulips and sweet morning dew. A scent he knew so well by now; always infallibly enraptured by it. It triggered a churning warmth in the pit of his stomach that set the usually caged extremely on-edge butterflies amok. He blinked rapidly, feeling a bit of difficulty catching up to his pulse. What was happening to him? He sunk a little lower in his chair, feeling mildly delirious and giddy all at once.

Could it be? That I’m in love with him? The thought was practically boxing his ears in, and it was deafening. Breathing was becoming even more laboured now, as a lump seemed to be growing inside his chest— which shot up to his throat when Piccolo turned back after leaving his answers on the board, and their gazes directly met. Piccolo’s clear lapis-lazuli orbs regarded him an entire second longer than usual, with an expression no less than masterfully neutral.

Gohan on the other hand, felt the lump expanding… expanding… and he scrunched his eyes tightly, as one thought engulfed his mind and all of his senses…

_He is so beautiful._

_Oh. Oh. Kamisama._ He winced, catching the renegade thought.

_I…_

He stole a glance at Piccolo across the classroom, two rows behind; the Namek’s gaze was now blithely transfixed on something beyond the window. The mere sight caused Gohan’s heart rate to shoot up all over again in a fevered frenzy. He swallowed once more, but the lump refused to go down.

_I’m in love with him._

 

**End of Prelude.**  
Continued in Episode 1: **Stalkerazzi _…_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was officially my very first attempt at GohanxPiccolo. I wrote the 15,000 word-draft from start to finish in one go (in the middle of work, merp). So it's technically all plotted out, but I will tweak it as I go along.
> 
> * * *
> 
> (12/14/2015-04/17/2016)


	2. Stalkerazzi

_There was an old book splayed-_

_And an ancient mystical dragon with the power to grant any wish imaginable._

_But beneath it, was something far more interesting._

_Shadows of swaying leaf canopies caressed the serene face, framing it in tantalizing patterns._

_He wondered what surreal dreams were being dreamed…_

_His soul revelled and ached to be it.  
_

_To be nuzzled against the tip of the most delicately perfect button nose._

_To press into slightly parted plush pink-dusted verdure lips…_

_So close now—_

_The warmth of subtle breaths tingled like confection in his tongue…_ **  
**

 

“ **Gohan-cha! Wake up!!!** ”

 

 

 

 

**\--------x--------**

  
1 **  
Stalkerazzi  
**

  
**\--------x--------**

 

“They should give up.”

In the distance, their ebony-brown-haired gangly friend had just emerged from the end of class baseball practice; and already he was being beleaguered by a trepidation-inspiring horde of _aspiring girlfriends, boyfriends, wives and husbands_.

For someone only halfway through his third month of attendance at Orange Star Intergalactic Academy, Gohan Son Jr. had already caught the fancy of a significant percentage of the school’s population. ‘ _Though generally withdrawn and taciturn, he is effortlessly charming enough: with his sweet innocently boyish face, impressive intellect, and shy demeanour.’_ As described in a recent feature in the school paper, which officially named him one of the top contenders of “most sought after” campus heartthrobs.

Trunks Briefs, currently number one on that list, has more than his fair share of the school’s population grovelling at his feet. But unlike Gohan, he actively entertained and even dated those he actually found interesting; thus keeping them in control. He already knew from experience that the more you rejected the "ardent admirers", the more plentiful they got.   

The half-Saiyajin brunet, however, didn’t seem to be catching on to that important fact, as he once again politely declined all his suitors for the day, bowing deeply numerous times in all directions. Some peeled away from the rabid flock either stunned or cross or both. Others were actually crying. But most just doubled their efforts in their re-appeals. It was such a mess, that even if Trunks may have initially did- he was beginning to _not_ envy his best friend and rival right about now. They looked like an infestation of roaches upon the guy, it made his skin crawl.

It may have been the fantasy of any other nobody who wanted to be somebody to make their dreary high school life more memorable in a world subjugated to bland conformity. But Gohan was not one of those. As was established in the previous chapter, this was by no means our protagonist’s goal, nor interest. Rather, he was one of the practically non-existent minority who has never even once been baited by fame. His response to Trunks’ argument that he should be more _‘welcoming to his admirers_ ’- was that the attention would probably have been flattering and even heart-warming _if they weren’t always attempting to smother him to death with it_.

“I can’t decide who to feel sorrier for: him or them.” Trunks remarked unsympathetically.

But as he watched Gohan bowing apologetically to his fans one final time before making a beeline through the love-struck herd and disappearing from view faster than any of them could take chase _without_ even remembering that they would be there _waiting for him_ \- Trunks’ decision was made: “Him. Definitely him.”

“That bad, huh?”

“ _Hook, line and sinker.”_ The tanned half-Saiyajin jumped down from the tree he had used as a lookout, to join Videl on the ground. “He’s even more far gone than all of them combined. Heck, I don’t think he even remembers we exist anymore.”

“No duh! I can’t believe he asked me again today what my name was!” The girl griped quite distressed. “Maybe next time he asks me again I’ll tell him my name is _Medusa Firespittle_ or something just as outrageous just to see if he’ll even notice.”

Trunks grinned. “I’ll wager you he won’t. And even if he does, do you really wanna risk being remembered as a Medusa Firespittle?”

“Forget it. I lose either way.”

As they turned to walk out of the campus, they continued to marvel at how drastically their friend had gone from a reserved studious nerd to a full-blown infatuation-crazed stalker in a matter of weeks. The three of them used to spend more time together, chatting before class and over lunch at the cafeteria, walking home, and most times even doing homework as a unit either over at Trunk’s or Videl’s house. But lately, Gohan had been churning out excuse after another to scrimp on that until eventually he was skipping out on almost all of their activities entirely. He said he needed to study and finish all projects and homework during every break available (including lunch!) because he wanted to take on some extra reading after class.

It wasn’t long before they discovered the _real reason_ they were suddenly being ejected from his schedule… And it had everything to do with a certain Namek who happened to be conveniently fond of doing some extra reading after class hours too.

They wanted to confront him about it of course, but eventually decided against it thinking that this was just a phase, and it would only be a matter of time before Gohan gets over his exotic puppy love. Besides, they were sure he was bound to get rejected (-the unsociable Namek didn’t even bother to interact with anyone. Where would the hormonal half-Saiyajin boyfriend figure into that?). Whichever came first, they made up their mind to wait it out. Besides, it was _amusing_ at the very least. Not to mention, it made for _engaging conversation._

“Well, Gohan-kun always seemed to totter at the border of his rocker. It must be his Saiyajin genes silently rebelling against that suffocating bundle of niceness that he always is. Maybe all this fanatical peace and pacifism has finally caused his fragile mind to snap, and Piccolo –even though the guy seems fairly harmless to me- poses an exciting kind of danger to him; a challenge out of the ordinary that gets him off or something…”

Her half-Saiyajin companion gave her a pointed look, to which she realized her error at once and mumbled a half-hearted apology.

“All geniuses are off their rocker, it comes with the package. Take my mom for instance.” Trunks mused. ”Only thing is, even if Gohan-san is a genius like Mom and has Saiyajin blood like me and my dad, none of us are as naturally powerful as he is. Even Dad admitted as much. I overheard him and Mom arguing a long time ago, over whether Gohan-san needed to wear a * _Ki-limiter_ as early as when he was born because his power levels were already tipping dangerously off the scales. I think that’s the reason his parents never taught him even the basics of fighting even if Chi-chi-san and Goku-san were both well-trained martial artists. There was a time when Saiyajins and other just as powerful beings were executed for being unable to keep their Ki in check.”

Videl suppressed a shudder. She only knew of the “dark days” from what their History classes and books revealed. But even she couldn’t imagine how awful it must have been during those days if simply being born powerful was a crime punishable by death. True, she wanted to punch Gohan’s lights out every time he forgot her name, but she certainly didn’t want him dead. If not for Bloomer’s recently developed Ki-limiter, Saiyajins and the like might not have been allowed to continue living here at all.

Since the technology was brought forward, Capsule Corporation had been commissioned by the government to mass-produce and release it in-line with the new law requiring (especially) new generations of Earth’s inhabitants with potentially above average Ki signatures to be fitted with Ki-limiter watches and weren’t allowed to remove it under any circumstances. The government had very efficient ways of detecting Ki spike anomalies that violated the set limit. This is how they found out if illegal battles were taking place, and violators were arrested on the spot with corresponding disciplinary measures immediately strictly enforced, which included -but was not limited to- _execution._ Through the years those Ki-limiter watches literally saved countless lives; not only allowing Saiyajins like Trunks and Gohan to exist and co-exist; but also giving every other non-fighting race the much-needed peace of mind that their alien powers were no longer a threat, and that it was safe to mingle with them. (She vaguely wondered in the back of her mind if Piccolo had to wear a Ki-limiter too…)

“On a lighter note,” Trunks cleared his throat, itching to alleviate the sudden awkward gloomy atmosphere he had caused. “If I had to pick a culprit for whatever Gohan-san is down with, I’m quite convinced it’s the books.”

“ _The books_.” Videl eyed him dryly.

“Yeah. The books.”

“You’re still pushing that?”

They had already once before (jokingly) speculated that it was possible that Gohan had fallen in love with the fact that _Piccolo was reading an actual book_ when they first saw each other; and _not_ with Piccolo himself. This was attributed to the fact that Gohan was so in love with the antiquated things that if he could, he would probably marry them. It was practically _rara avis_ to find someone like him who would still be caught pouring over traditional bound and paper-printed books, and seeing Piccolo sitting on the very same spot where he loved to read them -under the school’s popular landmark, a late-blooming Cherry Blossom tree- they reckoned that for Gohan, it was most likely _like finding true love_.

Trunks shrugged. “Either it’s because they’re both obsessed with the things, or I dunno… maybe he thinks the Namek is a * _djinni_ or something, just like characters in his favourite novel. He’s always been into occult stuff like that, he loves anything and everything to do with magic!”

“C’mon, are you for real? You’re saying he likes the guy because the guy reminds him of _demonic entities_?”

“Not exactly. First off, djinni aren’t necessarily evil.” Trunks pointed out. “But when you think about it, the original Nameks were also a terribly hostile race that employed dark mystical powers, remember? That’s why they were even called _demons_ at some point. But most of their kind were wiped out in the earlier wars. The Nameks we know of now are the greatly reformed ones, with lesser magical capabilities. There are only a handful of them left, and they were last heard migrating somewhere to a different much farther sector of the galaxy outside the scope of our own sector’s jurisdiction. Or that’s what we’re made to think according to the history books. So Nameks are practically a myth! No one in our time knows for sure if they were real. Whether Piccolo is a true Namek or not, the idea of getting to see one in the flesh is pretty amazing. Given everything and factoring in Gohan-san’s imagination, you _have_ to admit my theory isn’t too farfetched.”

By now, the twin-ponytailed girl was laughing so hard, she was clutching at her sides. “Just what is your issue with half-breed humans falling for dreamy green alien men and love at first sight that you needed to rationalize it with such a roundabout and ridiculous theory? Honestly, what if Gohan-kun was simply – _anticlimactically_ \- in love with him? Piccolo-kun doesn’t have to be a demon for Gohan-kun to like him! I can’t believe you actually thought really hard about that just so you wouldn’t admit the possibility of love!”

“ _Well, aren’t you the romanticist._ ” Trunks muttered sarcastically, raising his eyebrows at her antics. “And I didn’t think about that hard, that was just a spur-of-the-moment idea. All I’m saying is that Gohan-san tends to have his head in the clouds all the time from all those books he devours! Okay, let’s stick with the common interest in books then, I think that’s believable enough- _but love?_ I’m sorry to burst your bubble, Videl-san, but look around you! Whatever love you read about in those ancient fiction novels you’re so addicted to, _it isn’t real_. Love is just an over-glorified dissembling of our need to socialize and procreate. In short, we get bored, we invent colourful diversions to cover up how mundane our existence really is; how there is really no noble cause or higher power. Only existence. How many people actually marry for love? And even if they do, it’s not what keeps them together, it’s our laws. _Love_ is practically a myth, just like the Namekian race. Love is a fictional concept as far as can be proven. That’s all there is to it.”

Videl stared at her lavender-haired schoolmate for a long time, jaw agape, and eyes wide in legitimate dumbfoundedness. Then once again, she broke into more boisterous –quite poise-less- peals of laughter. Trunks actually began to sweat-drop disconcerted after a good five minutes of it nonstop. The girl looked like she was spilling her marbles in the process and it was beginning to seriously freak him out.

“Will you quit it already?” he finally blurted.

“Boy, Trunks-kun!” she wheezed still amidst uncontrollable giggles, slapping him in the back with enough force to knock the wind out of him. “ _You seriously need a_ _love_ _life_! Or even just a life! Geez, how do you even drag yourself out of bed every morning with that kind of outlook? I’m surprised you haven’t tried to jump off a building yet! Oh wait- _have you?!_ ”

“W-wha—?”

“ _No,_ _really_. You need to stop just playing the field and seriously fall for someone! _Majorly_. You know what? Compared to you, suddenly Gohan-kun isn’t so bad.”

Trunks’ face had been stuck doing a very good mimicry of a fish-out-of-water for some moments now.

Slinging her bag more securely around her shoulders, the girl wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes. “Besides, Mr.Angst-bucket… I can prove that your theory is flawed! If it were just the books, then he should’ve fallen in love with both of us too…” Videl’s voice turned quiet- too quiet for any sort of jocosity. “But he didn’t, didn’t he?” And with that, she proceeded to walk home, bidding him the usual farewell.

Trunks stared mutely for some minutes more, caught between being aghast and mortified. Then finally, running his fingers through his lengthy fringe (his ponytail barely keeping the rest of his mane together) he mutters, “Whatever.” Before turning towards the direction of his own house, feeling more perturbed by her words than he wanted to admit.

 

**-x-**

 

Settling into his usual post under the same huge Cherry Blossom tree in the park that overlooked the library, Gohan began unpacking the books he had borrowed for that day. As he opened one and began to read, one would easily be able to tell that it was fictional literature he was reading, since all their educational materials were programmed into their desk computers and personal study tablets.

Traditional books were considered impractical for classroom learning because they were heavy and cumbersome to drag everywhere; plus they weren’t very environmentally friendly, with so much of the forests in rehabilitation, still not fully restored after the wars. A traditional book hadn’t been published for many decades because it had been outlawed when trees were almost completely wiped out from the face of the planet in the wake of the wars. Out of necessity, people soon got used to digital reading materials and slowly evolved out of what books originally were. It didn’t help that the advent of amazing technological advances from all over the galaxy many years ago also inadvertently abetted this transition, and consequently brought all old fashioned libraries and all other types of non-digitally translated literature to the brink of extinction.

Which brings us back to Gohan…

The demi-Saiyajin _did_ open his book. But no _actual_ reading followed. Because he merely _took on the appearance_ of reading. In fact, in what anyone who knew him well would consider an unprecedented moment- Gohan wasn’t paying any attention to “ _the evil pharaoh who was about to curse the young magician who didn’t only steal his best and most loyal djinni slave, but the heart of the said cunning djinni as well”_ which he had read for the umpteenth time, and even already knew by heart from cover to cover– no. _This time_ , the book in all its hardbound glory served only but one purpose: _A cover_ \- both the figurative and literal kind- as his eyes skimmed over the words but all too often went up and above the printed page to steal a peek at the Namek beyond the garden inside the library, seated at his usual desk by the window (-said window happened to fall directly within his line of vision) completely absorbed in a thick hardbound book. Though there was nothing really compelling about watching someone perfectly stationary as they read a book with ironclad focus, Gohan never failed to find the sight anything less than breathtaking (especially since the Namek’s profile gave him a nice view of that impossibly cute button nose).

After several weeks, he had managed to get his target’s schedule down pat. Piccolo would read _before class under the late-blooming Cherry Blossom tree_ , and _after class in the library_. He would watch the Namek like an eagle stalking its prey but did his utmost to appear like that was anything but what he was doing. No, he was simply reading like he usually did after school. It just so happened that Piccolo was reading too, and very close by. That’s all. He wasn’t doing anything creepy or stalkerish.

True that he already established that he was somewhat attracted to the Namek for reasons he couldn’t yet fully understand himself, but he wasn’t about to change his routine just because they happened to like reading in the same places. He wasn’t going to run away. But he couldn’t face the situation head on either; at least not yet.

_Why don’t you talk to him?_

That was what his classmate ( _what was her name again? Vandel?_ ) suggested.

Talking was not something unusual. It was simple enough to do, and it didn’t have to mean anything. Sure, why not? If he could manage to keep his heart from leaping out of his mouth when he did so, it wouldn't be such a bad idea at all.

The teenager groaned, pressing his forehead into the book. _Talking. Right._ How do you go about that again? Why was it suddenly so difficult even in his imagination? Why was nothing simple anymore when it came to _him_?

 

**-x-**

 

Piccolo knew. 

It was pretty hard to miss when it was the same thing every time he took his regular spot in the library. Seeing the boy across the school garden reading under a tree was common enough a sight to pass off as nothing out of the ordinary. But if you added up how the boy acted in class… Let’s just say that _if he got a zenny for every time he had caught the boy staring at him within the last two months,_ he wouldn’t need to worry anymore about lunch money for the rest of the year –that is of course, if he even ate lunch at all. Still- the staring alone wouldn’t seem as curious to a normal person as it would to a Super Namek with a hundred times the hearing acuity of an average human’s.

The erratic and escalated heartbeats, the minute shifts in position, and the abrupt sucking of breath every time their eyes met. _His ears heard it all._ Telltale signs that it was more than a consistent string of coincidences.

It wasn’t the first time he had witnessed these specific set of apparently involuntary reactions. _However_ , it _was_ the first time that he felt compelled to understand it better. He had an idea that these were how humans reacted when they were interested in someone (other races from other parts of the galaxy tended to be more direct with their nonverbals). And so he tried to find books in the library about it. When he didn’t find any in the non-fiction section, he asked the librarian for assistance (pretending it was for an essay he needed to write). In response, she promptly heaped a bunch of books on his desk. All of which turned out to be _romance novels_.

The books –although not what he expected- _did_ manage to address the subject extensively. However, it was an odd thing that after being able to familiarize himself quite thoroughly with human behaviour to do with romantic attraction, he found himself only more baffled than he was before. Curiosity more stoked than ever, he hungered to read more books about it (which the librarian was quick to recommend). So as he followed the story of _this boy_ _who was in love with this girl_ and exhibiting the very same symptoms that his avid “stalker” was doing around him- more and more questions surfaced; and the more he craved for answers. Before the second month into his little "research" project was up, he had already finished reading all the romance novels their school library had to offer.

Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. sighed as he placed down the book he had finished for that day (which he had already read for the third time), mentally noting that he hadn’t heard the sound of a page turning even once since the moment the half Saiyajin had started “reading” around an hour ago. Somehow, the implications of that piece of information made his cheeks feel warm and knew by now that he was most likely blushing (something his cheeks never did before). It seemed to happen of its own accord every time he so much as entertained the idea that there was a half human possibly _in love_ with him the same way boys and girls “fell in love” in romance novels - _which he thought to be highly exaggerated by the way_ , and yet- his opinion did _not_ stop the blood from creeping up and flooding his cheeks all the same, _exactly like in those exaggerated romance novels._  What triggered such a reaction, and why couldn’t he seem to control it? _He felt ashamed and annoyed at himself for even entertaining the notion that the half-Saiyajin was in love with him that way. Which was absurd, of course. Surely there were other reasons for the boy's peculiar behaviour towards him. That’s all._ That’s what he chose to think of it for now.

“Ah.”

Piccolo blinked.

The boy's things were still there…

But Gohan himself _had disappeared._

**-x-**

 

Five minutes before Piccolo noticed his absence, Gohan caught something in his peripheral vision that made him turn.

Across the expanse of the school lawn where he was seated, a lanky boy with a bleached-blond head stood within the glass panelled corridor, looking straight at him and gesturing for him to come close.

 

**-x-**

 

“I didn’t know you could read upside-down. That’s some talent you got there.”

Gohan was dusting his trousers when they had alighted in the empty yard which led to the school’s maintenance equipment storage sheds. He looked up at the comment, and it took some seconds for it to fully sink in.

“Oh! That… err… haha! Uhm, thanks.” He mentally smacked himself for the blunder, hoping to high heaven that Piccolo hadn’t noticed that embarrassing little detail.

“Well?”

“Huh?” Gohan’s attentions were brought back to the blond boy. “What did you want to talk to me about, uhm- _Tamihaya-san_ , was it?”

“ _Tiyahama._ ” the boy corrected through gritted teeth. When more silence followed, he spoke with poorly masked petulance, “You don’t remember me, do you? I gave you a letter, you _said_ you’d read it.”

In all honestly, Gohan could not tear his mind away from the fact that _the library would be closing in fifteen minutes!_ and he wanted nothing more than to get back to his _erm_ , _“reading”_ (preferably not upside-down this time) under his favourite tree as soon as possible, before _a certain Namek_ went home. His mood was always unsalvageable for the remainder of the day whenever he missed glimpsing Piccolo before he went home.

Unfortunately, _Tahamaya_ _or whatever his name is_ noticed this and was not happy at the fact that the boy he was interested in _and secretly passionately fantasized about_ \- was being so inattentive towards him. It didn’t help that _the real_ Gohan was _always_ so inexorably distracted every time he tried to make a move on him - _the complete opposite of his fantasy Gohan_.

“Uh, listen, err- _Tahiyama-san_ , I’m really sorry but I need to finish reading this book before the library closes, so I have to go. But I promise I’ll read your letter tonight, okay?”

“ _That’s what you said the last time…_ and the time before that. I really think that you’re not taking me seriously, Gohan-san. I hate that.”

But Gohan no longer heard any of his mumblings. He was already sprinting back towards the side entrance.

He never got past it, though.

Three students -evidently from the rugby team judging by their uniforms- were suddenly standing there, imposingly barring the exit. The half-Saiyajin merely bowed and attempted to pass, politely excusing himself, but still, they didn’t budge. Instead, they slowly boxed him in, cracking their knuckles and flexing their beefy muscles in a very intimidating fashion.

It could be said that Gohan was not very adept at socialising, to begin with, which inevitably contributed to his current predicament. But even his notorious one-track mind wasn’t normally this dense not to notice how ominous the air around him had suddenly become, or how their menacing expressions and gestures were promising a world of pain… Unbelievable as it may seem, he truly didn’t understand what was going on, or why he wasn’t being allowed to pass.

The trio of rugby jocks, however, who were normally dense no matter what the situation- didn’t make it a habit to care about much else except getting their end of the bargain. Details like whether the chumps they’re paid to beat up understood why they were being beaten up in the first place or not were irrelevant. It was never personal anyway.

So when their prospective victim’s genial smile turned into a frown, they didn’t have a clue that it was _not_ because he was about to get the crap beaten out of him- _but because he was so forlorn that he wasn’t going to be able to spend the next eleven minutes pretending to be reading a book in his favourite spot under a tree that overlooked the library_ \- and quite frankly, they didn’t give a-

 **End of Episode 1.**  
Continued in Episode 2: **“Wool Gathering”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_*Ki-limiter_** – A headcanon invention for this world, obviously.
> 
>  ** _*djinni_** – Gohan-kun  & I have the same favourite book, mehehe. (Sorry I just couldn’t resist.)
> 
> * * *
> 
> (04/09/2016-09/06/2016)


	3. Wool Gathering

"No, no no no! Kamisama, please, no!” Chi-chi collapsed to her knees in front of the egg-shaped crystalline glass incubator that encased her barely-three-week old baby. She was mumbling incoherently, as she had been for the past days; big dark bags under her badly swollen eyes. 

They were in Capsule Corporation. And the teal-haired scientist and company heiress had just finished negotiating with the government, tooth and nail, for Gohan Son Jr's life.  

“This Ki-limiter will only keep his Ki levels within the set limit, but it won’t hurt him in any way, I promise.” Bloomer Briefs gently assured the couple –two of her dearest and oldest friends. But then, even as she said those words, she couldn’t help but despise herself for it. These were one of the rare times when she doubted the integrity of technology and the role it played in people's lives. “If I’m not mistaken, my own Trunks-kun will have to wear one too, when his powers start manifesting…”

“But, Trunks will be old enough by then! My Gohan-cha…" Chi-chi’s knees failed her as she tried to get up but Goku held her tightly, his expression unreadable. “ _He’s just a baby,_  a harmless, innocent little baby! You can’t put something like that on him, he’s not some animal you can contain! What if it affects his mind?! What if it blows up while he's wearing it?!!”

“Chi-chi,” Goku finally spoke, his voice as schooled as his features. “Bloomer doesn’t want to do this either, but this is the only way…”

The distraught woman turned to her husband then, rage in her tear-filled eyes. “This is all your fault!!! You and your fucked up alien genes did this to our baby! I hate you so much, Goku-saa! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!!” Goku didn’t flinch, even as Chi-chi shrieked and pounded against him, flailing, and trying to break free of his hold. It went on for some nerve-racking minutes and Bloomer feared that the woman was putting herself in danger of an imminent heart attack. “I hate you! So much, Goku-saa! Why… why did this have to happen to our baby??”

“I’m so sorry, Chi-chi-san,” Bloomer spoke up grimly, her scientist persona taking over. “But we’re running out of time.”

Goku only hugged his wife even fiercer when all the fight had left her body then and she collapsed onto his chest, sobbing and wailing until she lost consciousness when Bloomer finally snapped the limiter onto the sleeping infant's wrist inside the specially reinforced incubator.

“Remember, Son-kun," Bloomer's tone controlled and words precise. "You are under no circumstances allowed to remove this Ki-limiter or _Gohan-kun will die_.”

 

 **\--------x--------**

  
2 **  
Wool Gathering  
**

  
**\--------x--------**

 

“Gohan-kun, are you okay?”

“Well, duh. He’s obviously _not_ okay. Does he _look_ okay?”

“I didn’t mean his body, wiseass. I meant his mind.”

They both stared hard at Gohan’s face, a ghost of a smile was there -but unmistakably, _still_ \- a smile.

“Oh no… I think his mind is gone.” Videl gasped, her face creased with worry.

“He usually doesn’t wake up smiling like that after nearly getting pummelled to death, so you could be right…” Trunks remarked. “Or maybe his pain receptors died.”

The half-breed was swathed in bandages everywhere except his face, which was swollen beyond recognition. He could have easily put any half-decent mummy to shame.

“Is he even awake?” asked Videl fearfully. “I mean, maybe he’s asleep with his eyes open or something. He isn’t reacting to our voices.”

“Gohan-san, can you feel this?” Trunks poked a bruise on his cheek.

“Ow!”

“He’s fine.”

“What the hell are you smiling like that for anyway?! Would you cut it out, it’s creepy!”

“Maybe he has amnesia and doesn’t remember who we are?”

“Gohan-kun, say something!”

“Uuungmmmhh- rruhh.” (You two are loud.)

“Oh, right!” Trunks smacked his forehead and turned to Videl. “The good news is he didn’t lose any teeth. Bad news is, a couple or more did get avulsed and needed to be replanted. So, yeah, asking him to talk is probably not such a good idea.”

Gohan's bandaged hand lifts jerkily to feel his mouth.

“They put soft braces on you. Just to keep your teeth in place but don’t worry, it’s only temporary.”

Videl had both hands over her mouth, looking like she was on the verge of tears. “This is serious, Gohan-kun! Those bullies nearly killed you! I can't believe you didn’t even try to defend yourself! Why must you be such an overgrown wuss?!”

“Yeah, Gohan-san,” Trunks grimaced. “I mean, even a punching bag can put up a better fight than you.”

“If you weren’t so pathetic and injured right now, I’d like to punch you myself, just to knock some sense into you!”

“That won't be necessary!”

The two teens jumped at the grating voice of the woman who had just entered the room, meekly apologizing just as profusely as they were bowing.

Chi-chi sat down by her son’s bed, fed him some oatmeal, and proceeded to wipe his face with a lukewarm washcloth. The lines under her eyes seemed to get darker and deeper each time they watched this scene played out. 

“No,” Chi-chi’s voice softened. “ _I’m_ the one who should be apologizing. For all the trouble my son keeps causing you, making his friends worry so much all the time. I’m deeply indebted to you for looking after him.”

Gohan would have rolled his eyes at his mother’s words if it didn’t entail too much effort given his current state.  At the moment, he had to focus all his energy on not choking on the glass of water he was being made to drink.

“Alright,” Chi-chi stood up after she had finished administering his solubilised _Senzu bean_. “I’m off to work now. Your father will be home after lunch, so, do try not to get into any further trouble until then?”

Both Goku and Chi-chi needed to work to keep their family afloat. Since people hardly got hurt or sick anymore after the new laws of equality have been established, the cost of medication and medical services went up drastically and hospitalisation became something for the privileged. Recuperating at home was not only the more viable option but a “mandatory” one in the case of injuries due to “unfortunate accidents”- otherwise known as ‘incidents that the government didn’t want many people to know about’.

“Yeah, Gohan-san,” Trunks quipped. “Try not to get too bored of staring at the ceiling and imagining green lizards with blue eyyyeoof!”

Gohan’s eyes bulged out somewhat comically, as his lavender-haired classmate folded over from the force of his female classmate’s elbow to his gut. Thankfully, his mother had no idea of the hidden innuendo behind the joke.

After waving their goodbyes, they were out the door, finally leaving Gohan to his much-needed sleep and solitude.

 

**-x-**

 

“ _Uh, listen, err-_   _Tahiyama-san_ , _I’m really sorry but I need to finish reading this book before the library closes, so I have to go. But I promise I’ll read your letter tonight, okay?”_

“ _That’s what you said the last time…_   _and the time before that. I really think that you’re not taking me seriously, Gohan-san. I hate that.”_

“Uh, guys? I’m kind of in a hurry. I really need to pass, so-”

“Oh, but you really don’t, Gohan-san.”

Gohan turned back to face Tiyahama, when the trio of rugby jocks barricading his path refused to move, bewilderment washing over his features.

“I know where you’re off to, Gohan-san, and why you’re in such a hurry. And it’s not because you need to return a book.”

 

**-x-**

_“Ah.”_

_Piccolo blinked._

_The boy's things were still there…_

_But Gohan himself_ _had disappeared._

That’s odd, thought Piccolo. He knew the boy usually never moved from his spot until the library closed. Maybe he needed to use the loo or something. Not that it was his business. With that in mind, he reburies his nose in his book.

This was the part in the novel where the protagonist of the story –a very bright but also very timid girl- is cornered by a group of jealous girls from her school. The type of girls who were born wealthy and used to getting everything they want. So if and when they don’t get what they want, they don’t take it very well.

 

**-x-**

 

“I’ll give you one last chance, Gohan-san.” Tiyahama’s bony fingers cupped the boy’s chin and brought their faces close. “If you agree to go out with me, I’ll forgive you for ignoring my letters.”

“G-go out with you?” Gohan sputtered, bewildered. “Is that what this is about?”

“Now, you finally get it!”

“W-why do you need to do _this_?” he motioned to the rugby jocks on either side of him, securely holding him in place. “Though I have to admit, it certainly is a different approach…”

“ _You,_ _forced_ me to do _this_!” Tiyahama snapped. “All I wanted was for you to read my letters, but oh no, you’re too stuck-up for that. And I am fed up with playing the fool, chasing you around and waiting for you to stop ignoring me! So this time, I brought… ‘insurance’.”

“‘Insurance’?!” Gohan was very nice, but he didn’t appreciate being bullied into dating someone nor being held against his will and it was starting to get on his nerves. “Insurance for what, exactly?”

“Insurance that you will regret it, in the event that you refuse.”

**-x-**

The protagonist finds her back against the cold hard brick wall of the school gym with nowhere to run. She was trapped. The leader of the pack gives the signal and the rest move in. She struggles against the hands that grab at her but she is easily overpowered, four to one.

They hold her in place as the leader approaches, an object glints as it is brought up for her to see _-a pair of silver shears._ Very slowly it slides open under the subdued girl’s wavy fringe, the blades hovering less than a centimetre from her eyes.

“By the time I am through with you, there will be nothing left of you that he will find worth looking at.” The antagonist breathes against her ear. “And he will look at no one else _but me._ ”

The girl ceases her struggles instantly, her eyes instinctively squeezing shut and freeing tears in the process. Her whole body begins to tremble as the shears’ first ‘snip’ is heard, but she valiantly fights to remain still, for fear that she might lose more than her hair if she so much as took a breath.

 

**-x-**

 

He crashed to his knees, ears ringing, and blood oozing from his mouth and nose. His eyeglasses had slipped off his face somewhere after the twentieth hit, and he had lost count after thirty-five. He falls to the ground face forward when a boot connects viciously with his gut and the studded sole of someone’s shoe digs down hard into his back. He didn’t even have the strength left to avert his head to keep from being smothered in his own blood pooling on the ground. Every cough, choke, and sputter that racked his body unleashed hell upon his already ravaged innards.

The hybrid teenager was desperate enough to consider pretending to pass out sooner in hopes that he’d be left alone. But it was too late now. The soft blipping from his watch minutes ago told him that the library had already closed. With his eyeglasses broken he wouldn’t have been able to see from a distance without it anyway, and it further guaranteed that he wouldn’t be able to do so for around a week. Now, there was nothing left for him to be, _except royally pissed_. Whether out of shock, severe bodily trauma or momentary insanity, he didn’t care, he freed the weak chuckles trapped in his chest as he rolled over to his back. This naturally made his departing aggressors turn back.

“S’that all?” he muttered. “Whut’s… s’matter…? Tired already? Ohh. Dun tell me! I knowww!" A crazed grin slowly forms on his battered face. "Your knuckles're… hurrt'ng bad now, huh?”

 

**-x-**

She braces for the second snip, a third, fourth and countless more, knowing her antagonist won’t stop until she’s completely disfigured.

But the second snip never comes.

In its place, a shrill scream pierces the air. The shears had fallen to the ground and jabbed one of the other girls’ toes. The clawing hands come away and she’s back to standing on her own two feet, but she’s too dazed and she starts to fall. Shock, fear, relief, and other emotions that flood into her system in place of draining adrenaline do not allow her to be conscious long enough to feel that she never hit the ground. Someone had come to save her and catch her in the nick of time.

 

Piccolo snorts inwardly as he closed the book.

 _Romance novel clichés._ The prince _always_ arrives to rescue the princess at the very last minute.

In reality, things never really happen that way. The reality of life is that we’re all on our own. There are no guardian angels watching our backs and waiting for that perfect moment to execute the perfect rescue just to sweep us off our feet. Those thoughts summed up his opinion on the matter and yet- he had to agree that the idea was nice. Despite the obvious lack of truth behind it, there was some part of him that wanted to hang on to it and believe it was real; _believe in a reality that is more beautiful than it really is._  Perhaps this was the very essence of what humans defined as "romantic". 

It was now five minutes before the library closed.

Outside the window, the sight of the satchel and the open book still orphaned under the tree seemed to be telling him something…

The longer he stared…

The more he thinks he knows what it is _._

**-x-**

 

Gohan’s eyes slowly flutter open.

_How long had he been asleep?_

He could hear his father in the kitchen heating up the food his mother had prepared that morning and left in the fridge. So it was past noon. But the lack of sun outside his window told him that it was already night. This came as a huge relief to him. Tomorrow just couldn’t come fast enough.

He turns his head (the only part of his body he could move at the moment without excruciating pain), to the side table.

His eyeglasses were folded up and resting there under the lampshade. The left hinge and temple were badly twisted and the corresponding lens had a crack that ran from rim to rim. It was as good as rubbish now. He hated having to wear the damned things… But one side-effect of his special Ki-limiter on him was impaired vision. 

Beside the eyepiece was a small pile of letters, which lead his eyes to automatically seek out the rubbish bin at the end of the room. The sight of it filled to the brim with torn up and crumpled love letters only mildly surprises him. This only meant that his mother must be much busier than usual. Those letters would have been reduced to ashes by now if she had things going her way.

His mother had a habit of ransacking his schoolbag and going through his mail to “segregate” letters from his admirers. She would throw away and burn those she didn’t like and leave the few she picked “worthy” for Gohan to read. She especially hated his male and non-human admirers. And it suddenly dawned upon the teen why he couldn’t remember seeing Tamahama’s letter. Because he never really did.

Gohan sighed. His mother also required him to read the letters she picked and he had no business refusing her. She felt that at fifteen, it was high time he started picking someone to date and thinking of as a future wife. The discrimination between male and alien suitors was exclusively his mother’s since their world did not tolerate any sort of prejudice. But due to what he suspected could be a glitch in his inner workings or –if he wanted to be melodramatic- _fate itself_ , the only one he really ever wanted to date conveniently belonged to those two categories that his mother so deeply shunned. The likelihood of her disowning him as her son was far more plausible than her ever accepting Piccolo as his chosen mate.

But then, a voice inside him oh-so-sarcastically reminds him that he didn’t have to worry about it in this lifetime because the likelihood of him receiving a love letter or any kind of affection from the aloof and enigmatic Namek was even more non-existent.

His father enters after some minutes with a big bowl of steaming porridge and some sliced peaches. His father’s easy-going and somewhat apologetic smile made him long to share his woes all of a sudden, but then he remembered that he could barely speak yet, and maybe it was for the best.

“Really, Gohan!” Goku began, setting the food down on a bed tray after propping his son’s head up with pillows. “I knew you were strong but you just keep getting stronger, don’t you!” Gohan made a face. “So, how many were you able to take this time?”

“Huunnggh fffti.”

“Whoaaa!!!” Goku drew back and chuckled heartily. “A hundred and fifty! Boy, you’re one tough sucker to put down! I’m so proud of you, son!”

“Owwwhh!” Gohan glared daggers at his father through watery eyes. _That effing hurt! Easy, father!_ He thought miserably, not appreciating the not so light slap on the shoulder he received from the enthusiastic man.

“Oops! Sorry, son!” Goku rubbed his neck sheepishly. “It’s just- wow! I mean, look at you! You’re looking so much better already! You’ll be up and about in no time!”

“Nnggg ffhhh ykkhnngg nnggghttt.” (Not if you keep doing that, I won’t.)

But Goku didn’t seem to hear him. The older Saiyajin leans in closer, looking sideways towards the door as he does so, as if expecting Chi-chi to be eavesdropping on them instead of being away at work. “Try not to look like you’re enjoying yourself too much or your mother might think you’re doing this on purpose to skip school and uh, well, other things!”

Gohan almost sputtered on the spoonful of porridge that was being fed to him. “Huunngg?? Wuuhhh??” he swallowed his food and gave up on talking altogether. Instead, he wrinkled his nose and eyebrows, trying to express as much displeasure as his aching facial muscles permitted.

Goku sat back and eyed his son thoughtfully as if seeing him for the first time. The boy was barely recognisable underneath all the bandages. Then the older man chuckled. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know it’s no fun to get beaten up all the time. It’s just… well, you know how your mother thinks.”

“Yennngggh. Ngghhh nghh uhuhng nnngh.” (Yeah, tell me about it…) The worst part about it was missing school, Gohan thought, his face changing to convey the sadness he felt. He hated missing school. He really did.

“Ohh, more love letters!” Goku cawed, more delighted than was decent. “You are really popular, aren’t you son? Oh, this looks interesting! Would you like me to read it to you?”

Gohan smiled and shook his head. “Nnnhh nngghhhhhssshddd.”

“‘Not interested’? But why not??”

“Monnngghhhh cchhnnggsss, nghh mmnngghh.” (Mother’s choices, not mine.)

Goku slowly put down the few envelopes he had picked up, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. “Err, son? I’ll let you in on a secret, alright? Last night, she was so busy attending to you that she asked me to help pick out the letters. Sure, she still threw most of the ones I chose but I managed to sneak in a few that I thought you might find interesting so…” The easy smile was back on his face the next second. “Anyway, just concentrate on getting better, alright, son?”

Some minutes of awkward silence followed where Goku focuses on properly feeding his son his dinner. Gohan, on the other hand, was too mystified to do anything more than obediently open his mouth to the food, chew, swallow, and sit still as his father fixed his bed and wiped his face. When that had all been accomplished, Goku ruffled his bandaged head –much gentler this time- before standing and exiting the room, tray in hands, offering one last smile before closing the door.

 _So Mother let Father pick some of my letters this time… That’s unheard of._ Gohan found himself both amused and perturbed by the idea. But his eyes flit back to the pile of letters all the same. He immediately notices that one of them had already been opened and unfolded.

The standard brownish piece of recycled paper with only a few words written in plain black ink struck him as odd. His suitors usually used more elaborate types of recycled paper like scented ones or the frilly decorated variety. Paper, being a rare commodity nowadays, was a sort of status symbol on campus. The more scented and elaborate the paper you used for writing letters, the more well off you were since paper alone was incredibly expensive, let alone the special ones. Predictably, those kinds of letters were what his mother deemed “worthy”. She never feigned modesty about her opinion that _‘her dearest darling Gohan-chan deserved no less than a well-to-do wife’_. His male suitors usually did not adhere to those standards and seeing a plain piece of paper staring back at him from the pile his mother had gone through painted a strange picture indeed. This must be one of the letters that his father had managed to smuggle into the pile then…

Without his eyeglasses, he had to squint extra hard, trying to get as close as possible without falling off the bed, before the message which was written in slim and tall cursive strokes came into focus enough for him to read properly.

**_Friday after school._ **  
**_In front of storage shed behind gym._ **  
**_  
P.D.Jr._ **

 

He blinked.

Twice. Thrice. He had to read it at least ten times to be sure he wasn’t dreaming (and for someone who had to do an awful lot of squinting and straining to do so, that was no easy feat).

 

**_P.D.Jr.??_**

 

He sucked in a slow controlled breath through his nostrils. Then he sucked another slow controlled breath through his teeth. A live rock concert was suddenly commencing in his chest, so loud that he couldn’t remember how to think. His lungs too were suddenly refusing to cooperate and it seemed to reroute every intake of air straight to his head, that it felt as if his skull was going to burst any moment.

Carefully, mechanically, Gohan leaned back down against the pillows trying to calm his racing pulse and mind. He was faintly aware of the quiet beeping and whirring of his compensating Ki-limiter, tell-tale noises that his energy levels were being influenced by his excitement and rapidly rising. He most likely would have been sending off bioelectric sparks that made nearby appliances explode by now if he wasn’t wearing the gadget that doubled as a wristwatch.

When he was eleven, he had caused a Ki-limiter he was wearing to explode. Luckily, he was in Bloomer’s lab then and the necessary adjustments were made at once before the government’s scanners caught wind of the Ki spike. The first Ki-limiter models already had a very high energy output surge protector and capacitor, but even then, Gohan was already putting it through its paces. Since then, Bloomer developed more advanced models until she perfected one that could keep up with and regulate an even greater surge of power. This became Gohan’s very own custom-made Ki-limiter, and for once in his life, he truly appreciated having it on. Because Kamisama knows he would rather be the one who got hurt than accidentally end up hurting others.

He was older now and he didn’t know if a hybrid Saiyajin’s powers increased with age as a normal Saiyajin’s powers did. He did his utmost to be careful to monitor his emotions all the time, not wanting to break his Ki-limiter yet again, because if such an accident happened outside of Bloomer’s lab, they all knew the consequences would not be as tractable.

Yet at that very moment, thanks to the mysterious letter, he was having trouble calming down. _It couldn’t be. It was impossible._ He didn’t know anyone else with the same initials, but he knew too well that there was just no way on earth that this note could be from who he thought it was from. First of all, how could he have come into contact with Gohan? He doesn’t remember any occasion where he could have slipped a letter into his bag. Secondly, even if he did, did he even know Gohan? Why would he ask to meet? The whole idea just refused to make any sense. Surely there had to be a perfectly logical explanation for this other than what his lovesick mind wanted to believe…

Gohan almost shot out of bed if a great portion of his body didn’t feel like even his bruises had bruises.

 

_Trunks and Vonelle!_

 

They must have conspired with his father to get their stupid prank across!

He silently fumed imagining how his two friends must be laughing their faces off at his disconcertion by now, even using his unwitting father to do their dirty work! He swore to Kamisama that he was going to be back in school by tomorrow if it was the last thing he did! Just to have the pleasure of giving those two a piece of his mind. Already, the added motivation was making the feeling return to his extremities. Yes, he just needed a few more hours rest and he could manage to drag his body to school tomorrow, just like every other time.

A weary yawn escaped his aching jaw as his tired mind and body began to drag him back into the realm of restful dreaming. Although their joke was somewhat cruel given that they knew how much he would be willing to buy it, he had to admit…

Even if only for those time-stopping first five seconds, it felt wonderful believing that the letter really did come from the one being he most wanted attention from.

 

 **End of Episode 2.  
** Continued in Episode 3: **Jump To Conclusion…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trunks in this story is about the same age and appearance as Mirai Trunks during the later part of Cell Saga, but his personality is more of the Kid Trunks one. (Just in case you were wondering why he is kind of OOC.) And, tadaaa! Goku is here! First time writing Goku too. It was hard. I died. (꒪A꒪)::
> 
> * * *
> 
> (12/01/2016-01/15/2017)


	4. Jump To Conclusion (part 1)

**_The Present:  
_ ** **_Friday, Son Household, Pre-Class Hours…_ **

 

Gohan was awake before the crack of dawn. He had already done his push-ups –or, tried to do what he could manage of it- and instead of helping his father chop wood like he did on normal days, he gathered tinder and kindling instead for their morning bath. They used to bath together when Gohan was younger but the barrel no longer accommodated them both so they took turns. After a proper bath, the young demi-Saiyajin felt like brand new. By the time he had finished eating breakfast, the only manifestation of his bodily injuries that remained was a limp in his right leg where a huge percentage of the blows had landed when he was prostrated on the ground. With some tape and elastic bandages, he had managed to numb the pain enough to reduce his limp to an almost unnoticeable gait. Hiding the bruises on his face would be easy from there.

**  
\--------x--------**

  
3  
**Jump To Conclusion**  
(part 1)

  
**\--------x--------**

 

Standing in front of his bedroom’s full-length mirror, a palette of mottled dark blues to purples and greens to yellows in varying degrees stared back at him. But thankfully, much of the swelling that came with it had already faded substantially; nothing his magic concealer from Bloomer couldn’t erase temporarily. It took a lot of wheedling but he had finally persuaded her to give him one for “emergencies”. And even though she wasn't anticipating the violence that constantly hovered over him like a dark foreboding shadow to follow him from his previous schools to this new one, she still went along with the boy's wishes and even taught him how to apply her special spray-on formula like a pro. By the time he was done- it was like the bruises were never there.

Next, he stretched his facial muscles into his usual smile. It looked a bit stiff the first tries but he managed to make it look natural after a little more practice. The soft braces had been removed from his teeth but his jaw and gums were still raw, so he had to talk as carefully and as minimally as possible without arousing suspicion. He would have to avoid interacting with anyone else other than his friends until then.

The demi-Saiyajin knew well by now that he wasn't going to be allowed to leave the house if he still had visible injuries after the incident but it wasn't just his mother's rules that he was abiding by when it came to that. His determination alone not to miss another day of school always seemed to serve as the most potent thaumaturgic cure, because by the time he was done preparing, no one, not even his own mother could tell that he had been at death's door just two days ago. However, it was imperative that he convinced his mother that his swift recovery was attributed entirely to the miraculous _Senzu_ he had been administered. The truth of the matter was, that he never really ingested any of it with his water like his mother was made to believe. Apart from the fact that the young hybrid hated being compelled to depend on it for healing, he also felt that using it on him was wasteful. He believed that he could bounce back from his injuries in record time without it, and after making a deal with Goku and a third partner in crime, Bloomer, that if he could "prove" this, they must agree to help secretly wean him off of it. And so, slowly but surely, the rationed _Senzu_ beans were replaced with plain old ordinary beans with no power. This was done when Chi-chi wasn't looking, of course. She hated the stuff herself and never felt the urge to try or inspect it, which is why Goku had no trouble at all hiding away all the real _Senzu_. Gohan then later received whatever was accumulated of this stash as his "reward" for merely surviving without it. It became a secret little game between father and son. The more brutal the beatings he endured, the more _Senzu_ beans were allotted to them by the government; and the faster he recuperated without its aid, the more of his rations he would earn as a reward.

He smiled happily at the four precious _Senzu_ beans he harvested inside the pouch his father left tied to a tree branch too high for anyone else to see or climb, but one that he could effortlessly reach with one jump. The beans were worth infinitely much more than zennies could buy.

 

The original _Senzu_ beans were first used as a secret weapon to aid fighters in the war. Nowadays, you needed a special government permit to have even just one. And unless it was an emergency –meaning a matter of national security- they wouldn’t issue a permit for it. But as far as what is known as “The Invisible Records” were concerned, the Son Household was one of the few families who secretly got issued a regular supply of it.

There was a very simple logic behind this: Keeping a student from dying due to factors beyond their control –such as on-campus violence or “unfortunate accidents”- _was,_ in fact, something the government considered ‘a matter of national security’ _._ Anything that threatened to mar or compromise the pristine image of their present society’s “peaceful and non-violent” utopic state that they worked so hard to establish over the past recent decades was to be nipped in the bud; no questions asked. All necessary measures are to be taken in the most discreet manner possible in order to avoid giving the people any reason to incite or even think of an uprising.

This chunk of classified information was reluctantly provided by Bloomer Briefs when he asked her about it. Rather, when he asked Trunks about it, who in turn asked his mother when Chi-chi refused to give Gohan any straight answers.

 

 **_Around Two Years Ago:  
_ ** **_Capsule Corporation's Ki-limiter Synchronization Facility…_ **

 

“That’s crazy, why don’t they do something about the bullies instead?” Trunks had commented heatedly after hearing the explanation.

“I agree with you,” Bloomer mused. “But it isn’t that simple. Gohan-kun’s power is still one of the most potentially dangerous albeit dormant Ki energies on the planet. Powers from races with a propensity for recalcitrant mass destruction like that of the Super Saiyajins have been outlawed many decades ago. You and Gohan-kun just being here, now, and mingling with the rest of the Earth’s inhabitants is something we had to fight for, and it was no walk in the park, I can tell you that. The government made sure that we understood the implications of these “special conditions” they allowed us and that it can be rescinded anytime at their own discretion, and upon the slightest infraction on our side. Their message was simple: In this world where we live in now, we owe it to their clemency that people like Gohan-kun are being allowed a normal life. To them, it was much like allowing the Son’s to keep an unarmed nuclear bomb. Don’t get me wrong, of course, I don’t agree with the way they’ve put collars on living beings, aliens or otherwise- but I understand where they’re coming from. They’re only acting in the general population’s best interest and safety. So as wrong as it may sound, even in a situation where Gohan-kun is being ganged up on and beaten to death- the more he doesn’t fight back, the more he’s prolonging his life, because to everyone else, he is –and will always be considered- the greater threat. It’s similar to how a trained boxer throwing a punch outside the ring against a normal untrained individual would more likely be adjudicated as a lethal act of aggression merely due to their strength difference, regardless of who provoked who. Plus, I’m willing to bet every one of those punks that ever attacked him do not and cannot even hope to exceed their average Ki register, even when they’re brawling with everything they’ve got, which is why, technically, by the laws that govern our world now, they aren’t breaking any rules as far as the big picture is concerned.”

“That is just,” Trunks’ fists were shaking in controlled anger, “so wrong, Mom.”

“I understand how you feel, Trunks-kun. Gohan-kun is practically family to us, which is why we think of this as an injustice. However, look closely. He may look fragile on the outside, all bruised and messed up pretty badly… but upon closer inspection, he doesn’t look like he really sustains any long-term damage at all. What does that say about how strong his body is? Can you imagine what it would be like, if he even so much as tried to fight back? Remember, when Gohan-kun was born, his Ki read-out was already three times the acceptable level for a normally powerful being.”

“But, Mom,” Trunks insisted, “technically Gohan-san is reduced to an average, normal Earthling himself with even lower Ki stats than those bullies the moment that the Ki-limiter was strapped on him, right? He’s already been reduced to cannon fodder. You’re right, he’s still frighteningly strong despite that, but he doesn’t have to fight back! He is at least allowed to defend himself, isn’t he? I get it, even doing that alone would probably hurt his attackers but I’m guessing it won’t hurt them enough to cause any real damage. It’ll just scare them enough to get them to leave him alone. Can’t he at least do that?”

“I suppose he can,” came the pensive reply. “With the right training…”

“Well, then, why doesn’t he? I just don’t get it. I know he looks and acts like it most of the time, but we all know that Gohan-san is _not_ stupid.”

Bloomer’s eyes were transfixed on the almost completely naked form of the young and mild-mannered dark-haired fourteen-year-old who had just emerged from the glass chamber after a full-body scan and Ki-limiter synchronization check. The numerous bruises, cuts, scars and countless more internal injuries that decorated the boy’s body inside-out was almost like a second skin on him now; a stark contrast to the alacritous smile and overflowing effulgence that carried not a single trace of all the pain and suffering that his young mind and body has already weathered. He gave a thumbs-up sign at his small audience of the Briefs-Vegeta mother and son tandem behind the console, clearly rejoicing at the not-so-diminutive accomplishment of having passed yet another scan with flying colours and having survived another violently unmerciful ordeal that could have easily killed even the strongest of normal people.

Bloomer’s skin crawled with mixed feelings of a scientist’s awe, a human’s instinctual fear, and motherly relief. From any angle, Gohan Son Jr was the sweetest, nicest, and most harmless kid of all. And yet, she knew –and the readings from her computer confirmed as much- that there was a monster sleeping inside of that gentle façade. How much longer her inventions could keep it in check, was just about how much time the boy –and probably, the rest of the world- had.

_Sometimes she couldn’t help but ascribe to fate’s twisted poetic justice…_

“Well, Trunks-kun,” She depressed a button that unlocked the chamber and allowed the grinning half-blooded Saiyajin to alight and collect his school uniform from the adjoining lockers before making his way to them. “I think you’ll have to ask Chi-chi-san for the answers to that.”

**-x-**

 

 **_The Present:  
_ ** **_Friday, Orange Star Intergalactic Academy, Class Dismissal…_ **

 

Gohan made sure to avoid talking to anyone before and during classes. Videl and Trunks played along as “the good friends” and let him soak up his crush through the cracked perspective of his broken eyeglasses. School records listed “Severe Toothache” as the lone reason for his absence, based on the nurse’s report. Thus, their teachers didn’t expect him to read aloud and recite at all, and as long as he didn’t raise his hand, they called on other students for all class periods. By the time the school bell rang indicating the end of the lessons for that day, he was one out of the classroom in a flash to avoid the avid suitors hungry for his blood.

“So, congratulations!” Trunks popped alongside him as they trekked through the halls of clamouring students. “Last Wednesday was your initiation -your first beating- in this new school, wasn’t it? Who and what was it about this time?” He almost slapped his friend on the back in jest but thought better of it.

“Oh, for Kamisama’s sake! Does that even matter?” Videl appeared next on Gohan’s free side, rolling her eyes in exasperation at Trunks who merely shrugged in response. 

“Some guy named Tamihama…” Gohan murmured. “He wanted me to go out with him, I think…”

“Oh, wow. That’s original,” Trunks remarked. “You used to get the crap beaten out of you because they hated your guts. Now that they want to win your affection, it’s no different. They _still_ want to beat the crap out of you. Maybe it’s your _killer_ personality. Or just plain old rotten luck?”

“Tamihama…? I’ve never heard of anyone named-”

“Didn’t we talk about this already?” Trunks continued as he waved at a group of girls who were waving at him causing them to swoon and squeal in delight (not necessarily in that order). “How you’re _not_ supposed to let them back you into a corner and push you around?"

“I admit, I got a little careless.”

“ _‘A little’_ careless?” Videl blurted out, then lowered her voice when her two male companions surreptitiously shushed her, “I’d hate to see what would happen to you if you got _‘just’_ careless.”

“No one in this school is supposed to know that I’m a hybrid. Bloomer-san made sure of that before I started. That was the only reason I ever was everyone’s favourite living target practice before. I’m not quite sure of how just yet but, this guy- he knows things.”

“This Tamihama character? Eeekk!!” Videl almost tripped over a bunch of students seated on the hallway floor doing some project in front of their lockers like it was their own living room and completely ignoring the fact that the passage was crowded enough as it is. She managed to sidestep them at the very last second and resist the urge to slam her knuckles into their thick noggins but opted for a heartfelt endearment instead, “ _Get your fat asses out of the way, **bacteria-for-brains!!!**_ ” Then turning back to Gohan, she pressed on, “‘Things’? Like, what things?”

“He knew how Ki-limiters work.” Gohan blinked at the expectant looks on his friends' faces. “And… he threatened to expose me as an X, _‘to raise awareness’_.”

“Wow. With admirers like those who needs enemies!”

“Arg!! Scum like those deserve to be taught a lesson! They’re the ones who should be closely monitored!”

Just as they passed a heavy steel door, Gohan turned the latch, nimbly slipped inside, and closed the door behind him as soon as Trunks and Videl were inside.

They were in the fire escape stairwell. An airtight passage that connected all floors of their school’s main building. No one ever used the stairs nowadays and it was the perfect place to talk if they didn’t want to be overheard. Still, he double-checked to make sure they were alone before speaking again, keeping his voice to an undertone, “Trunks-san, does your mom still take _Senzu_ as payment? I kind of need a new pair.” He gestured to the eyeglasses resting slightly lopsidedly on the bridge of his nose. He had managed to hold the frame together for the meantime by replacing the bent temples with parts from his old eyeglasses and reinforcing it at the hinges with the help of clear tape, but the giant crack in the left lens couldn’t be helped.

“Sure she does! Whoa! You got four this time!”

“Shh! Keep your voice down. Do you think she could just fix the lens instead of making me a new one? I’m trying to cut costs as much as possible.”

“Forget it! She should make you a helmet with eyeglasses built-in if you ask me! You know, like in those super sentai squadron shows they used to have before!”

“Uhm, ‘sentai’ and ‘squadron’ kinda mean the same thing?” Videl dryly interjected but was deliberately ignored.

“Let her build you that new fancy pair that won't break even if you get punched in the face. It’ll only cost one more _Senzu_ anyway, so don’t be stingy!”

“No, I can't. I worked really hard just to get enough for Snappy-Dragon. He hasn’t completely recovered yet. Father and I managed to sedate him and cauterize his arrow wounds but he still isn’t looking too chipper and I’m really worried. He needs this more than I need new fancy eyeglasses.”

“Fine!” The blue-eyed half-Saiyajin huffed. “I’ll just tell my mom to add it to your tab! Just remember, Gohan-san! You owe me, again!”

“Yeah,” The half-breed chuckled forking over a _Senzu_ bean. “I really appreciate it, Trunks-san. Oh, and by the way, thanks for saving me last Wednesday! If you guys hadn’t stepped in, I think I would’ve been a goner, for sure.”

Trunks and Videl exchanged perplexed glances.

"Save you?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“We visited you Thursday morning after the Ki Tsar dudes dropped you home from the school infirmary the previous night, but that’s it."

"Yeah,” Videl spoke slowly to emphasize her words. “How could we have rescued you, we went home ahead that day, remember? Oh, yeah. I forgot. You were too busy stalking your green-skinned prince charming to even remember to give us a proper goodbye."

Gohan’s brows furrowed as he gathered their serious expressions. “Who brought me to the infirmary then?”

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t us.”

“Is that so?” The brown-eyed half-breed pulled something from his satchel and shoved it towards them. “I suppose you’re going to tell me this wasn’t you either, huh?”

Trunks and Videl’s expressions remained blank as an unfolded piece of brownish paper is held up before their noses.

“ _‘Friday’, ‘storage shed behind gym’_ …?”

“Who’s P.D.Jr?” Trunks muttered.

“Wait a sec,” Videl looked up, genuinely curious herself. “Is this who I think it is? _You got a letter from Piccolo?_ But then… you think it’s really from us?? I don’t understa-”

“Nice try, guys. But I’m not falling for it.” Gohan said, moving towards the door.

“Whoa, whoa! Hold on,” Trunks put up his hands. “I’m a bit confused here… Can you at least ‘enlighten’ us as to how you’re so sure this is not _actually_ from your antennae’d princess?”

Gohan turned back and pulled open his lapel to bare his coat’s inside pocket. “Three reasons! One. No one else would have been able to slip it here that day without me knowing, _except_ you guys _when you brought me to the infirmary._ Two. The only other person who could have done it would be the nurse, when I was unconscious. But Mrs Suno’s old enough to be my mother’s mother, I doubt pranking students is her secret pastime, and even if it was, I don’t think she knows about Piccolo-san, nor would she care enough to go through all this trouble. And, three? You guys are the only ones who know that my mother goes through my bags to screen my letters _but not my clothes._ You know that Father does our laundry and that he would find it in my coat, and as long as you got it in my coat pocket you knew it would reach me, more or less. You two have the means _and_ the motive!”

“Wow.” Trunks whistled, genuinely speechless for a couple of seconds. “Your theory is so cogent that even I’m having a hard time believing I didn’t do it!”

Videl’s mouth which had fallen slack before the end of Gohan’s ludicrously seamless expository recovered just in time for a rejoinder, “And it would be perfectly sound too, _except!_ that as we’ve already told you, _we didn’t_ bring you to the infirmary that day, _genius!_ ”

The demi-Saiyajin chortled loudly before turning on his heel to leave. “I don’t know about you guys, but it’s too early for April Fool’s, don’t you think? Better luck next time, because like I said, I’m not buying it!”

“I really think they hit him in the head one too many times this time,” remarked the lavender-haired Saiyajin several hushed seconds after Gohan had left.

“Arg! I hate it when he gets so stupidly smug like that! Even when he’s wrong he makes us feel like we’re the ones who lost! How does he do that?” The brunette Earthling clutched her twin ponytails in frustration, letting out another strangled scream with it.

“Well, I guess we can’t blame him for reacting that way. We _did_ prank him with fake love letters in a span of less than three months more times than he’s ever got his clock cleaned his whole life…” Trunks let out an uneasy laugh. “We’ll forever be the boy and girl who cried wolf to him.”

“Okay, fine. I guess I can forgive him for that. But, why would he think that we rescued him? I mean, I didn’t even know that he got rescued in the first place. We’ve never had the chance to intervene whenever he got beaten up before, I didn’t think anyone other than us still cared enough to get involved in such things…”

“I don’t think he’s making it up, though.”

“Well, _I think_ he must’ve been hallucinating.”

“But if he just imagined it and those bullies _really did_ leave him as good as roadkill… How did he manage to haul himself to the infirmary which was on the other side of the school grounds?”

 

 **_The Present:  
_ ** **_Friday, Orange Star Intergalactic Academy Basketball Gym, Back Yard, Post-Class Hours…_ **

 

 _No. Impossible._ The letter couldn’t have come from Piccolo. Trunks and Vindee were lying to him. That was another piece of evidence against them that he had forgotten to point out.

No one else knows that he had the help of government-issued _Senzu_ to recuperate. If the letter was indeed given by Piccolo that day, the only chance he would have gotten to slip the letter in his inside breast pocket was after the bullies left, and even then, there was no way he could have predicted that Gohan would be back in school only after one day of rest after seeing him in such a state.

The hybrid teenager shook his head for the umpteenth time as he restlessly paced back and forth in the limited space. Besides, if he entertained the notion that the letter did come from Piccolo, it would mean that he also knew about The Invisible Records somehow, that was the only way he would have been able to correctly estimate that he would be back in school just after one day. That was the requirement under the law; the very reason the _Senzu beans_ were brought into play. Furthermore, that theory would also engender that it was Piccolo who rescued him that day and brought him to the infirmary… which of course, doesn’t make any sense at all! _Why would he have been there in the first place? And why would he leave me a letter saying that he wanted to meet me all of a sudden?_ It’s not like the Namek has shown any special interest in him, romantically or otherwise. Heck, they didn’t even know each other personally, and the best he could always count on were apathetic stares!

 _No. Pull yourself together, Gohan._ The letter is not from Piccolo. Just thinking that it could be is ridiculous!

 

And yet, here he was.

Behind the basketball gym building, the only gym where there was a storage shed. _The place indicated in the letter._

 

School had ended ten minutes ago and even if he had left his friends in the fire escape stairwell, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Trunks and Vindee would burst in from the gym’s back door any moment and be laughing their faces off at him for biting the bait after such a cocky speech, and for being the hopeless and gullible lovesick fool that he was. He sighed miserably, stopping to rest his back against the brick wall facing the door.

Although he had to skip Baseball Club Practice just to be here, it all worked out because he wasn’t fully recovered yet anyway. He really had nothing to lose by being here, and yet…

_He just felt stupid._

He didn’t know what he was waiting for. He didn’t know who he was expecting to find.

A part of him knew that no one would arrive to meet him. But he couldn’t deny the greater part of him that made his heart thunder in his chest as he waited it out. That part of him that wanted to believe that miracles did happen to pathetic losers like him and that it wasn’t such a demanding thing to expect of fate to bring Piccolo walking in through that door.

One. There was only one reason that fuelled his tiny sliver of hope. He knew that Piccolo didn’t have any clubs and that he usually just disappeared after class for an hour or so before he showed up in the library or under the tree to read until sundown. He was never able to find out where the Namek went and maybe if he did know, it would have spared him the agony of waiting here now because he could have been able to simply check if Piccolo was wherever he usually went during that time… But since he didn’t have that option, he thought it wouldn’t hurt – _much_ \- to wait and see for at least thirty minutes.

Of course, the longer he stood there, the more he felt like an idiot.

His watch blipped indicating that he had already been waiting for fifteen minutes. He sighed as he reset the alarm to go off after an additional fifteen minutes.

 _Only fifteen minutes more._ _After that, I’m leaving._ He kicked at the gravel beneath his feet and leaned back against the wall tilting his chin up.

Giant plumes of cumulonimbus clouds lazily rolled by and he allowed himself to be lulled into a daydream or two as he watched the fluffy formations glide overhead without a care in the world.

 _I wonder if clouds have it as rough?_ He felt a twinge of envy for the free roaming atmospheric condensations for a fleeting moment before a nervous titter bubbled up his throat that was really a poor cover-up for a sob.

“Oh, Kamisama, what am I doing here?” he glumly murmured to the clouds.

He rolled his full weight back onto the soles of his feet and idly moseyed over to the door.

Before his hands could wrap around the door’s steel latch, however, he is startled back into alertness as the handle suddenly jiggles and turns on its own. Instinctively, he backpedals to give way to whoever had turned the latch from the other side and was most certainly about to step through; his heart suddenly trapped in his throat and thundering like a mad army of horses in his ears.

When the figure came into full view to stand a few paces in front of him, Gohan’s eyes went wild.

“ **You…!** ”

 

 **End of Episode 3.** **  
** Continued in Episode 4: **Jump To Conclusion** (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (01/15-22/2017)


	5. Jump To Conclusion (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** This chapter has **Non-con/Rape Elements**. And more **Blood and Violence** and Expletives.

_**Two days ago:  
**_ _**Wednesday, Orange Star Intergalactic Academy, Post-Class Hours…** _

 

_“I’m kind of in a hurry. I really need to pass, so-”_

_“Oh, but you really don’t, Gohan-san. I_ _know where you’re off to and why you’re in such a hurry. And it’s not because you need to return a book.”_

Tiyahama cocked his head, and huge beefy hands slammed down on Gohan’s shoulders, clamping him in place; the more he tried to struggle, the more they reasserted their hold. His questions as to why he was being detained and what they were going to do to him were met with very cliché villainous guffaws from his captors and unabated jerky pacing from their blond maestro.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” Tiyahama stopped and waved a gaunt finger in the hybrid’s nose before moving the said finger to tap the watch on his wrist. “Your limiter is warning you to stop fighting back. If you don’t stop expending Ki, your limiter’s alarm will climb to level two. And you and I both know that things will only get uglier for you if Ki Tsars get wind of it.”

 

\--------x--------

  
4  
**Jump To Conclusion**  
(part 2)

  
\--------x--------

 

Gohan was panting hard from his futile struggles by now, beads of sweat forming on his brow. He hated to admit it, but Tahamaha was right. Apart from its regular function as a Ki monitor and inhibitor, Capsule Corporation’s Ki-limiters were integrated with three very efficient counter mechanisms that initiate in succession, in the event of an abnormal rise in Ki.

The first mechanism is accompanied by a level one warning –low metronomic beeping at timed intervals which can not be turned off manually like you would an alarm clock. This tells the wearer that their Ki levels are rising above average and will automatically compensate as Ki levels approach critical. “Critical” here denotes the amount of Ki energy that the government stipulates as “unlawful” for any individual to posses. The alarm will only stop once the wearer’s Ki levels have returned to normal. However, if the upsurge of Ki persists, a second -more aggressive- mechanism is initiated. The limiter begins to absorb excess Ki energy from its host and uses this to release electrical pulses in directly proportional intensities and calculated timing. This is accompanied by a level two warning –the same beeping but in more urgent succession- and it will continue to run within a margin of ten to fifteen minutes depending on the state of the wearer and the excess Ki being nullified. This process was designed to cancel out the energy outflux by forcefully relaxing all key muscles and nerves in the wearer’s body; incrementally lowering the heart rate to a resting pace, making one enervated to a point of drowsiness. Bloomer Briefs made sure that the second counter mechanism would consistently generate a success rate of 99.9% making the last counter mechanism virtually impossible to trigger and was only added to meet the government's requirement. This is because anyone whose Ki levels are able to activate the third and final level will automatically be considered a fugitive. In this stage, the Ki-limiter elevates the alarm to an emergency frequency which will put the government’s Ki Tsars on red alert. A much more powerful electrical impulse is also fired into the body; one strong enough to knock the wearer unconscious and keep them unconscious until they are taken into custody.

Being the first being to ever wear a Ki-limiter since infancy, it was no surprise that Gohan had habituated superbly to it, and like a childhood friend, he knew its every blip, whir, and quirk. He had -as he and his father had made a ritual of doing- familiarised himself with its limits and how it would react; attempting to raise and control his own Ki within its set boundaries. Gohan wasn’t the least bit worried about reaching level three because he had already mastered navigating through level two when he was just eleven. What he was trying to do, however, was intimidate Tamamaha into giving up on whatever he was planning. Unfortunately, it usually only worked on bullies who weren’t familiar with how the Ki-limiter worked.

Gohan tried to pull his arms free from his captors one last time but they held fast and he knew that if he tried to raise his energy some more, his Ki-limiter would only continue lowering his already close-to-non-existent Ki levels. Every time the limiter got revved up to a counter mechanism, a thirty-minute cooling period always followed after its deactivation, before it reset itself to its default state. He finally lets his body slump forward, heaving slow, deep breaths; sweat colliding and trickling off the bridge of his nose. His chest cavity felt like it was slowly filling up with fast-dying cement as getting oxygen into his lungs became more and more laboured. In times like these, he wasn’t only up against his adversaries, but ultimately against his own Ki-limiter as it continued to siphon him of power. He needed to stop fighting an entire thirty minutes to convince his limiter that he did not need to be debilitated any further.

High-pitched cackles filled the air; Tiyahama only too pleased to witness how his hostage deflated before him in defeat. “I’m sorry, didn’t I tell you? My father is an important member of the board of legislators who formed the Ki Regulatory Act, I know all about Ki-limiters! If only you had read my letters, you would have known better than to try and scare me! In fact, that is one of the things I intend to amend in our school when I become student council president. Every single student should be aware of how Ki-limiters work to be able to protect themselves from Xs like you.”

 _Great. Just what he needed. The entire school finding out that he was an X-jin._  Gohan couldn’t help but feel utterly demoralised. Just when he thought that he could finally start anew in this new school as a normal senior high student who didn’t get beaten up every other day… Trunks and Vildee were right. Scum of the world like Tahuhaha here who had no scruples about abusing their power are the ones who should be wearing limiters.

_**The Present:  
**_ _**Friday, Orange Star Intergalactic Academy, Fire Escape, Class Dismissal…** _

__

_“But if he just imagined it and those bullies really_   _did_   _leave_ _him as good as roadkill… How did he manage to haul himself to the infirmary which was on the other side of the school grounds?”_

“I dunno, maybe one of the teachers found him?” Videl shrugged. “It’s not strange that they’d want to remain anonymous. They  _were_  instructed to keep incidents like  those under wraps.”

“Fair enough,” Trunks said, though not entirely convinced. “I have a more pressing question then.”

“Which is?”

“Do you really think the nurse isn’t pranking students?”

“Uggh!” Videl rolled her eyes before yanking open the door and heading out; her Saiyajin companion following close behind.

“Hey, it can get pretty boring in the clinic!”

Only when the door sealed shut again did a figure perched several floors higher up the stairwell stand up and make his own exit.

_**Two days ago:  
**_ _**Wednesday, Orange Star Intergalactic Academy, Post-Class Hours…** _

As always, he wanted to lash out- he knew he could. His heart was hammering furiously despite the Ki-limiters calming pulses. But Gohan steeled his nerves and brought to mind his injured dragon. That’s when he remembered that he could make this unpleasant situation still work to his advantage.  _At least, he was going to get Senzu for Snappy Dragon. And maybe, just maybe- if they beat him up fast enough he’d still get even just a few minutes left to see Piccolo…_

_“I’ll give you one last chance, Gohan-san. If you agree to go out with me, I’ll forgive you for ignoring my letters.”_

_“G-go out with you? Is that what this is about?”_

_“Now, you finally get it!”_

_“W-why do you need to do this?”_

_“You, forced me to do this! All I wanted was for you to read my letters, but oh no, you’re too stuck-up for that. And I am fed up with playing the fool, chasing you around and waiting for you to stop ignoring me! So this time, I brought… ‘insurance’.”_

_“‘Insurance’?! Insurance for what, exactly?”_

_“Insurance that you will regret it, in the event that you refuse.”_

Gohan hung his head and silently gnashed his teeth to keep his temper from flaring.

“So…?” Tiyahama prodded when the silence stretched too long for his impatience. “What’s it going to be, Gohan-san?

Underneath his boastful exterior, all Tiyahama really wanted was to go steady with the object of his wet dreams. He truthfully did not relish the idea of hurting Gohan (except in the same sexual way he always did in his fantasies). He was hoping that his crush would be intimidated by the whole intense set-up and give in before he would have to resort to any real violence. He was also confident that after all these “initial difficulties” Gohan would eventually –undoubtedly- fall in love with him too and the boy would finally be all his. He could feel it in his loins, he was so close to realizing his dreams now!

 

“What time is it?”

 

Even the trio holding Gohan had to do a double-take to make sure they heard him correctly.

“Wh-whut?” Tiyahama’s self-satisfied façade crumbled.

“I said…” Gohan’s voice soft and yet steadfast –a stark contrast to his subjugated state. _“What time is it?”_

They exchange puzzled looks amongst themselves, and though quite discomposed, Tiyahama reluctantly peered at the expensive timepiece on his wrist.

“I-It’s err, uhm- it’s less than a minute to- hey!!!” Tiyahama dropped his arm indignantly. “I see what you’re doing! You almost had me there! Well, forget it! You’re  _not_  leaving until I say so, so stop ignoring me or-or! Or stalling for time and just-! Just answer my goddamn question!!!” The vigorous outburst complete with stomping and kicking about like a child throwing a tantrum left the skinny boy breathless and red-faced. He couldn’t believe that in spite of the current predicament his soon-to-be-boyfriend was in, his mind was  _still_  on something else other than him!

Just then, the sound of soft blipping from Gohan’s Ki-limiter momentarily threw the foursome into confusion. They relaxed when they realized that it wasn’t a warning but just an ordinary alarm. None of them dared speak until the said alarm had died down completely and countless more tense moments of silence followed before Gohan craned his neck up to face the blond boy. Tiyahama was startled at the sudden action, but he cautiously leaned forward again when he didn’t catch the words which Gohan had just mouthed.

“W-what?”

“My answer is…” Gohan breathed out, just enough for the air to carry over to Tiyahama’s waiting ear. “ _Go fuck yourself._ ”

The splendid image of primal rage that slowly engulfed Tiyahama’ face gave Gohan immense satisfaction even as the three jocks were promptly given the go signal to proceed with what they were there for, which they did with commendable enthusiasm.

“Alright, alright! That’s enough! Stop! I said STOP!!!” Tiyahama hollered after a minute or two, cringing as they moved away from the bloody-faced boy who crashed onto his knees in a fit of wheezing and twitching as soon as he was unhanded. “You morons! Did you have to hit him in the face that many times when I already told you to avoid that as much as possible??”

“We thought you’d never call us off,” one of the jocks panted, rubbing his sore knuckles. They crowded around their leader and continued to speak in low voices, “We didn’t have a choice! It hurt like hell if we hit him anywhere else! For a wimpy glitch, he sure is lean!”

“Yeah, you said he was just some weak X-jin and we wouldn’t have to do much! We’ve been hitting him with everything we’ve got and he’s still awake!” The other one hissed.

“Shut up! SHUT UP!!!” Tiyahama snapped irately, slapping several bills into one of their open hands. Then his voice was back to a quiet snarl, “Just take your cut and keep your traps shut! Understood? Now, shoo, get lost!”

 

 _**The Present:** _ **_  
_Friday, Orange Star Intergalactic Academy Basketball Gym, Back Yard, Post-Class Hours…__ **

 

_“You!”_

 

“Yes.  _Me._ ”

A wave of dizziness crashed over Gohan. The last person he wanted to see was standing right in front of him. The boy took a step closer, to which he took two steps back.

“Hello, Gohan-san. It’s so good to see you’ve recovered.”

“It can’t be… Torimama…!”

“Gggrrr! That’s Tiyahama!  _Tee-ya-ha-ma!_ ”

“Why are you here?? Unless-? No way…”

“Yes way!” Tiyahama sneered, securing the heavy door shut behind him. “It was me who slipped that letter into your coat pocket. After what happened, I knew you wouldn’t come to meet me even if I asked you to, so I was prepared to resort to-  _‘other means’_.”

By now, pure horror and disgust had settled in the pit of the demi-Saiyajin’s stomach that even words couldn’t find its way to his mouth. He only continued to inch away with every advance his beady-eyed schoolmate took until he felt his back flatten against the brick wall.

“I had a feeling that if I used  _his_  name, you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. And I was right! You  _do_  have the hots for that Namek. You _never_  would have come out here so willingly otherwise. And it worked like a charm too. If you thought you’d be meeting your crush, naturally, you would want to be alone with him and you wouldn’t bring your friend to back you up in case things got ugly like the last time. Now  _that_ I didn’t expect-  _that_  was clever!”

_Friend…?_

_So Trunks and_ _Veedee_ _did come to save him after all? But why did they deny it?_

“But no matter, I still managed to outwit you. Even if your friend had thwarted my plans for you then, here you are now! Luck favours the prepared, after all. I even bribed someone in your class to take pictures of his handwriting so you wouldn’t doubt the letter’s authenticity! In the end, it all paid off nicely, don’t you think?

“You want to know what I think?” Gohan seethed. “I  _think_  you’re sick, Tummyhaha!”

“That’s--! TIYAHAA-!” The boy roared, his face contorted in anguish and lunacy. But he stopped himself in mid-tirade and attempted to compose himself. “Okay, now you’re just doing that on purpose to annoy me! I- am not the one sick here, let me make things clear, YOU ARE! All I’ve ever tried to be for you is the perfect prince! I asked you  _nicely_  to read my letters. I asked you  _nicely_  to go out with me! But oh no, no, no, what did you do? You turned me down, you told me to  _fuck myself!_ ”

As the blond boy ranted, he lapsed into another one of his obsessive-compulsive pacing, muttering, and tearing at his hair; clomping his heels against the gravel like an enraged bull. Gohan took that chance to inch away as inconspicuously as possible towards the exit. He knew he didn’t stand a chance of escaping the crazed boy in such a small space especially since he was still harbouring numerous concealed injuries. There’s no telling what would happen if he tried to resist in his current state since he didn’t have full control over his body or Ki energy yet. His only chance was breaking for the exit.

“You see, the thing is-  _ **the**_   _ **thing I don’t understand is**_ \- why is it you read  _his_  letters  _ **but completely ignore mine?!**_  I really,  _really_ hate that, Gohan-san! I- I mean, you’re my soul mate and all and I love you so much! But I  _hate_  that about you! You make me so mad sometimes, you know that?”

Gohan grit his teeth as Tiyahama spun around, forcing him to halt his escape. He was still too far from safety’s reach… and yet his adversary was currently at the farthest possible point opposite of him in the cramped area; this could be the best chance he’ll ever get to reach the door!

“Why can’t you see that we’re meant for each other, Gohan-san?? …Huh? No!!!”

The burst of speed the half-breed forced on his lower body got him halfway across the yard before tines of pain shot through his still badly injured leg and resounded with every impact of his heels on the hard ground. He dived the last few paces and his fingers made it to the latch but he fumbled- slipping once, twice; his legs still not having caught up completely with the rest of him. Those few precious moments cost him dearly.

“Oh no, you don’t! You’ve turned your back on me for the last time!!!”

The demi-Saiyajin’s eyes involuntarily rolled back in its sockets as his entire body is gripped by jolt after jolt of electrifying pain for what seemed like an excruciating eternity. Grunting and gasping for air, he crumples into a spineless heap as whatever was used to immobilise him was finally disengaged from his nape. He groaned in more agony as aftershocks continued to render him paralyzed and severely disorientated. By the time he had regained enough equilibrium to be assured of the fact that the Earth wasn’t trying to eject him from its surface, he had already been pulled a considerable distance from his only refuge and he shivered inwardly as he felt skeletal fingers running through his fringe, sweeping it aside with hair-raising mock affection that he would have swatted it away instantly if only he could feel his arms.

“Guuh-ggghhhet yuuur hands offfuhh-me!” Gohan shouted with everything he had but it came out an enfeebled slur. His tongue felt like it was three times bigger and the words just ended up spilling all over the place; much like how his brains felt at the moment.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Tiyahama crooned. “Don’t tell me you were actually expecting Daimaoh? C’mon, Gohan-san! For someone so smart you sure are dense. That walking glacier is obviously not into you and yet you still follow him around like a lovesick puppy, it’s pathetic! I don’t know why you’re so hung up on him anyway. Nameks are asexuals with no gender, they don’t have sex! He’s a lost cause. He can’t give you what you need, but I can. I’ll prove to you right now who’s the better lover.”

 

At fifteen, Gohan Son Jr had already experienced many things any mother wouldn’t want their children to ever go through at any point in their lives. While Chi-chi’s response to these misfortunes was to be overprotective of him, Goku’s approach had been a more practical albeit foolhardy one. 

Gohan experienced his first ruthless beating when he was only four. Chi-chi wanted to home school him after that, wanting to lock her son in and never let him out. But Goku wanted to train him to cope with whatever challenges the future had in store. In the end, none of them got what they wanted because home-schooling an X-child was illegal and so was training one to fight.

Not one to give up so easily, Goku had found “other” ways to make Gohan stronger right under Chi-chi’s nose, without actually going against her wishes. While he didn’t teach Gohan any fighting techniques or even the most basic defensive manoeuvres, he did manage to build the boy’s endurance, strength, and stamina by engaging him in seemingly innocuous everyday work like climbing trees to pick fruits, chopping down trees and firewood, tilling soil for crops, carrying heavy loads over great distances and so on and so forth. Learning to manage low levels of Ki was also incorporated into his everyday tasks, but only when Chi-chi wasn’t looking. Basic things like igniting the fireplace or stove, boosting the kinetic energy of his jumps and sprints, and anticipating blows to be able to add an extra layer of defence in the targeted area -almost like a force field that absorbed most of the damage but wasn’t solid enough to prevent contact completely- to name a few. It could be said that these simple daily regimens are what kept him alive and healthy up until this point. And Gohan had always been a good child, never going against his parents' wishes, even if one of those were never to fight back against bullies no matter what.

One traumatic experience that he has escaped being subjected to, so far, was being sexually molested. And so, as he found himself straddled by his schoolmate and at the end of rough, chafing touches after having his white dress shirt violently ripped off right in the middle dislodging all the buttons and exposing his body to those bony hands that rubbed over his flesh with the subtlety of a horny ape, he was introduced to a whole new feeling of fear and helplessness, one that he didn’t know how to deal with.

 

Still too numb to even keep his eyes open, much less, defend himself, panic was settling in, making thinking even harder than it already was. He berated himself being so careless to assume that the scrawny boy was relatively harmless now that he wasn’t with his brawny retinue. But what further confused him, was how and why a student from their school had a stun gun in his possession. He had never been on the receiving end of one before, but Trunks had. And he was right, the damned things hurt like hell!

 

Ki Tsars had appeared at Capsule Corporation’s front door once, when a nine-year-old Trunks had punched a classmate for calling his father an X. “Xs” or “X-jins” was a derogatory term used by pure-blooded Earthlings to refer to “Extra-Terrestrials” whom they viewed as outcasts who shouldn’t be allowed to live on Earth with the rest of them. Trunks’ retaliation had caused his Ki-limiter’s warning alarm to shoot up to level two in seconds. Given that it didn’t reach level three and the energy spike did not exceed the legal Ki limit, the fact that it registered a mere hair’s breadth away from going critical, still led the government to believe that a nine-year-old exhibiting such power, was serious cause for concern.

Incidentally, Bloomer Briefs was away at that time and it was Vegeta who met them and tried negotiating with them. He explained that it was an accident and nothing more, refusing to surrender his son to the government for re-evaluation and juvenile disciplinary action despite the warrant. Things escalated into a heated altercation and Trunks, who had disobeyed his father’s orders by not remaining in his room, had been eavesdropping, petrified. When Vegeta adamantly refused to let the Ki Tsars in his home to collect Trunks, it was then that the nine-year-old had been given a first-hand introduction to Ki Tsar’s dreadful stun gun. Right after they used it on Vegeta, he got a taste of its extremely painful immobilizing effects next, when he burst out of his hiding place to defend his father. It was only by a miraculous stroke of luck that Bloomer Briefs happened to return early from her trip just in time to save them both from the close shave.

 

It was illegal for civilians to carry around weapons, even for self-defence. Anything that could harm others was forbidden, be it nail file or a fork; such objects were strictly confined to the places they were used. Gohan had no idea if his attacker was using the same special stun gun that supposedly only Ki-Tsars wielded but what he did know was that his abuser _had a weapon nevertheless_ , and it put him at a terrifying disadvantage. Especially now that Tahuhama was trying to mash mouths with him and his hands were groping lower and lower. Tremendous willpower was the only thing left fuelling his efforts to obviate his lips.

“Hold still!” Tiyahama commanded, his hands getting impetuous with its stroking.

“P-please…” Gohan groaned weakly, feeling his strength dwindling rapidly. “Dunn… do thuss…!”

“Enough talk!” Tiyahama squawked infuriated as he ground his hips down harder on Gohan’s thighs when his prey tried to turn over. “I don’t want to keep doing this but you leave me no choice!”

Once again, Gohan felt his breath leave him in harrowing, clipped gasps as he was -for the second time- stabbed with the stun gun, this time in the abdomen. It was much quicker than the first but it did the job. After a series of agonizing spasms, the half-Saiyajin’s body fell motionless, eyes closing with a finality; barely at the threshold of consciousness.

As Tiyahama’s lips succeeded in connecting with his own, he felt some part of him shatter. And the pain it brought that hurt far more than any physical pain he’s ever endured, was the last thing he knew before his mind finally slipped into oblivion.

 

 _“_ **_I agree. Enough talk._ ** _”_

Tiyahama was just beginning to enjoy the kiss, having just managed to breach Gohan’s lips with his tongue when the boy fell unconscious, but the voice that sliced through the late afternoon’s silence was compelling enough to pierce the fog of his heavily aroused mind. He shot up and frantically scanned his surroundings but could not find the source of the voice. He made sure to choose a place with no areas where third parties could hide and a quick reconnoitring of the surroundings before he showed up there confirmed that Gohan didn’t bring any friends to back him up this time.  _Who could this pesky interloper be?!_  He fumed to himself, tendrils of panic creeping in.

A rustle of movement makes him spin around but before he could see or understand what was happening, a whirlwind of motion and colours finds him seconds later in high place -a rooftop- and he makes the mistake of turning too quickly that he finds his feet out of ground, a strangled shriek barely making it out of his throat. He remained suspended at least three storeys aboveground overlooking the school’s dilapidated soccer field. It was no longer in use, therefore, not a soul was in sight. It took several more seconds before he realized that someone was holding him by the scruff of his collar, and that it was the only thing preventing him from plunging to what would most likely be his death.

“W-who are you??” His voice shaking terribly. “L-listen! Y-you don’t know w-w-who you’re dealing w-with h-here! Put me down-aaaeeeiiihh!” Tiyahama’s unmanly yell quickly got reduced to hysterical whining as incontinence added testament to how terrified he truly was, having been nudged an inch further beyond the ledge, his feet swinging in mid-air as they desperately tried to find footing. “No! N-No! Please, ohgodohgod, please! I don’t want to die! Please, don’t drop me!!!”

“I warned you.”

“Whu?”

“I warned you to stay away from the X-jin.”

“W-whut’re you talking about?! I don’t even know who you are!?”

 

 _**Two days ago:  
**_ _**Wednesday, Orange Star Intergalactic Academy, Post-Class Hours…** _

                                  

_“Shut up! SHUT UP!!! Just take your cut and keep your traps shut! Understood? Now, shoo, get lost!”_

The retreating goons don’t get past the door but jump in startlement as the dead air is suddenly pervaded by faint, crazed laughter. They wheel around to make sure their ears weren’t deceiving them and the sight that met them sent chills up their spine.

Gohan’s blood soaked lips were turned upward as he rolled over to meet their stares with bloodshot eyes aglow with unmistakeable complacency.

 _“S’that all?_ _Whut’s… s’matter…? Tired already? Ohh. Dun tell me! I_ _knowww! Your_ _knuckles're…_ _hurrt'ng_ _bad now, huh?”_

As expected, the cheeky comment ensured the demi-Saiyajin a second round of even more savage beating and despite Tiyahama’s hysterical protests for them to cease, his orders went unheeded.

From the rooftop of the adjoining building leaning against a wall averted from the group’s line of vision, was a casual spectator. He had heard what had transpired for the past ten minutes or so and was half expecting the boy to pull off some awe-inspiring stratagem that would hopefully reverse the one-sided clobbering. But as the seconds dragged into minutes, it became clear that no such turnaround would happen. Their victim’s heartbeat was already weakening to a disquietingly erratic pace, and despite the spunk he had exhibited earlier, he knew that if no one intervened, there was a very real chance that the boy would die.

 

 _“_ **_I thought it might be important to mention that his heart is about to stop_ ** _.”_

The sudden booming peremptory voice out of nowhere arrested the group’s attention without a hitch. They looked around frantically but could not find any trace of anyone else there as far as their eyes could see.   

 _“_ **_If there’s anything I hate more than stupid cowards, it’s stupid cowards who fight dirty_ ** _.”_

 _“W-who are you?!” Tiyahama demanded, as his cronies scampered to_   _cower_ _behind him like rattled mice. “No matter! Whoever you are, you have no idea who you’re messing with! So if you know what’s good for you-”_

 _“_ ** _You’re right. It doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is this: You will walk away, and promise to never bother X-jins again_ ** _.”_

The trio exchanged fearful looks. Their knuckles were sore and bloody pulps by now and every other part of them they used to hit Gohan with was in no better shape. The last thing they wanted to get into right now was another fight, much less be caught. The voice could belong to a faculty member, for all they knew!

“ _ **You have ten seconds**_ _._ ”

“Or what?!” Tiyahama challenged, livid that his perfect plan was falling apart.

“ _ **Or bad things will happen to**_ _ **you,**_ _ **if I so much as find you still within a**_ _ **kilometre**_ _ **of here when your ten seconds are up. Your funeral**_ _._

 _“_ ** _Ten_** _._ ”

The bullies had no reason to wait for Tiyahama to dismiss them. They got what they came for and didn’t care what happened to Gohan after…

“ _ **Nine**_ _._ ”

Tiyahama’s scappers had deserted him in a flash. They fled the clearing as swiftly as their aching limbs would carry them. They still had a kilometre to clear and despite them being members of the school’s Rugby Club, they didn’t really run very fast.

“ _ **Eight**_ _._ ”

“Curse you! Whoever you are!!!” Tiyahama spluttered, a huge chunk of his earlier confidence stripped away by the loss of his mini army. He may be the son of an important political figure, but he knew better than to engage in fisticuffs all by himself. Physical activities were never his strong suit. “Fine! To hell with you!”

“ _ **Five**_ _._ ”

Tiyahama stormed out, slamming the door behind him before grudgingly breaking into a run. But not without having first stealthily secured a letter inside Gohan's pocket.

 

 _**The Present:** _ **_  
_Friday, Orange Star Intergalactic Academy, Rooftop,_   _Post-Class Hours…__ **

 

“If there’s anything I hate more than stupid cowards who play dirty,  _it’s perverted stupid cowards who play dirty -and use my name._ ” The voice growled in Tiyahama’s ear.

The flabbergasted student was then roughly pulled in from the edge and unceremoniously dropped to his feet. He teetered for some seconds before falling to his shins and slowly whipping his head around, fully expecting to find Gohan’s lavender-haired X-jin friend…  

The blond boy’s eyes popped. “You…??! B-but… why…? I don’t understand… You and Gohan-san aren’t even friends!” Manic laughter began to pour from his shaking lips as he forced himself back up on wobbly knees. “You don’t  _have any_  friends! You don’t care about anyone! Why the hell are you here?! Why don’t you just mind your own fucking business, Namek!”

In reply, Piccolo only shortened the distance between them by a step. Tiyahama instinctively slunk back, the Namek’s height alone, a monstrous aberration to behold -not even counting the rest of his grotesque appearance. More colour drained away from his countenance, however, as he found himself quite literally at a deadlock. He swallowed hard, angry tears springing to his eyes.  _He has never been made to suffer such humiliation in all his life! He was an important person, goddamnit!_

“W-why are you doing this? Do y-you have any idea, w-who I am?! Y-you can’t do anything to me, you can’t hurt me! I-it’s against the law!”

“Who says I’m going to hurt you?” Piccolo took another step forward, making the trembling boy whimper louder. “You’re going to do that all by yourself.”

Tiyahama’s face turned pale as death.

“You’re going to jump off this building.”

**End of Episode 4.**  
Continued in Episode 5:  **Tickled Green…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (01/22-28/2017)


	6. Tickled Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Possible Trigger Warning:** Allusions to rape and sexual abuse trauma.

_Bony hands raking over his body, bumping and scraping against unhealed bruises. That gaunt mouth repeatedly trying to capture his lips, fanning his face with hot fetid breaths and leaving slimy trails where they landed instead -licking and slobbering his chin, cheeks, and neck- and he nearly retches, but he’s too weak even for that. He tries with all his might to turn over to get away but a powerful surge of electricity is coursing through his body the next moment, and he’s only too grateful that he was going under fast. But it wasn't fast enough to not feel that mouth finally latch on to its prize._ _A dead weight began to settle in his chest like an immovable slab of unforgiving rock. He sank deeper and deeper until darkness closed in, trapping him where the sun’s light could no longer reach. He gasped for a breath that continued to elude him as the shadow pushing him down engulfed him and began sucking out even the light from within him, filling all the spaces left with blackness. A thick and heavy, suffocating sludge of blackness._

_Run._

_That’s all he could think of. To run, and keep running, retreating further into himself, desperately trying to protect that place inside of him where he was still allowed to dream, to hope…_

_But too soon the blackness has caught up to him and he was lost._

_Suddenly he didn’t know anymore –couldn’t tell- if such a place inside him ever existed at all…_

_Because now, all he remembered were broken dreams._

 

\--------x--------

  
5  
**Tickled Green**

  
\--------x--------

 

The weekend came by and washed over them like a calm after the storm.

Saturday had Trunks and Videl in the Satan mansion recreation room, the settees and carpets all cluttered with books and unfinished projects. There was no petty bickering or witty exchanges, only silence, which prevailed for the most part of their day. On the outside, both looked like they were hard-pressed studying, but on the inside, they were bogged down by a sandstorm of emotions and questions they couldn’t appease, although none of them wished to be the first to admit it.

The scene the previous late afternoon with their friend passing them by like they were invisible was on endless rerun in the minds, _looping over and over again._ How Gohan didn’t seem to hear anything when they called his name; much more so how he didn’t even raise his head towards the window of the library to glimpse his crush like he always did since the first day he fell in love with the Namek. Gohan ignoring them –though extremely irksome- wasn’t something out of the ordinary to them by now, hence not any cause for real alarm. _But Gohan ignoring Piccolo…?_ That was something they imagined only a mindless clone of the Gohan Son Jr they knew would be capable of doing. It was perhaps the surest indication that something was seriously wrong with their friend.

Only a little over an hour had passed since they last spoke to him that day after class right before they left for club activities and he was perfectly fine. _What could have happened within that hour that transpired? Did Gohan still go to the meeting place stated in the letter? Was it really Piccolo who had given him the letter and did they end up meeting yesterday after class? Could it be that their friend finally told the Namek his feelings only to be rejected and heartbroken?_

After that encounter with an estranged version of their friend, they weren’t at all surprised that the demi-Saiyajin failed to show up to do schoolwork with them that fine sunny Saturday despite having promised to do so a week earlier. And they weren’t in the mood to gripe about it either for the time being, they needed time to think and sort out their own feelings on the matter.

 

Gohan, on the other hand, focused on what he usually did during weekdays- helping in his father’s small farm. One his father decided to start after he was born, in need of a new hobby that didn’t involve martial arts which was, of course, now outlawed. Goku quickly took to little Gohan’s suggestion to plant crops and take care of farm animals, seeing it as the perfect excuse to be spared from what he considered ‘boring housework’. Luckily, Chi-chi had no objections to it either, since it presented such a harmless alternative to fighting. With the traumatic incident still fresh on his mind, the fifteen-year-old looked forward to a weekend of hard-core farming, but most of all, attending to his adopted pet, Snappy Dragon. Dragons were on the brink of extinction and he knew it was risky to keep the baby dragon as a pet but he just could not leave it alone and injured in the wilderness after some poachers had wounded it, almost mortally. Goku allowed Gohan to take care of the dragon until it was completely healed and only under two strict conditions: That he was going to set the dragon free afterwards; and that they should keep it a secret even from Chi-chi.

_“What if he stays with me after he’s healed, can I be allowed to keep him forever?”_

The demi-Saiyajin had asked and Goku didn’t answer right away. He stared at his son, unable to help feeling a twinge of sentimentality at how big and strong he had already grown and how truly proud he was of him. Gohan was a good child who rarely ever asked for anything, Goku was more than willing to spoil him every now and then, even just a little bit. His stern face broke into a wide grin.

_“That will be entirely Snappy’s choice to make now, won't it? If Snappy chooses to return to you that means he wants you two to remain bosom buddies. And I don't think me or anybody will be able to have a say in the matter.”_

Gohan eyes immediately teared up at that, after which a loud squawk of agreement from Snappy Dragon broke the awkward atmosphere and caused father and son to break into hearty laughter.

 

Every day after school, he made it a point to drop in and greet his friend, no matter what. He did his best not to let Snappy feel the weight of his latest misfortune as he patted the sleeping baby dragon that morning, earning a grateful purr in return, before heading out to the fields to meet his father who was already up and outdoors before sunrise.

Gohan mentioned nothing of the incident at school to no one, not even to his father. As much as he needed someone to confide in for advice and wanted that person to be his father, it just didn’t feel like the type of bonding topic that sons shared with their fathers, so he decided to keep it to himself. He was hoping against hope that the matter would stay a secret and that his attacker wouldn’t blab about it; he really didn’t know what to expect come Monday. Nevertheless, he was already bracing himself for the worst, expecting everyone to be at the ready regarding him with either repulsed or sympathetic stares. There was a very real chance as well, of Tamahaya keeping the incident a secret only to blackmail him into more sex. It wasn’t so farfetched –knowing how craven his molester was- that he took photographic “evidence” of his crime to use against him. Of course, as hellish as that nightmarish scenario was, the idea of Piccolo finding out what happened to him and ostracizing him –looking at him with disgust in his eyes like the rest of the school- was still much more unbearable to foresee, even in his imagination.

He shook his head after he had strapped on his overalls and pulled up his work boots. For now, he was not going to dwell on the coming horrors life had in store for him, he turned on his “default happy face” for his parents, neighbours and everyone he met the entire day as he went about doing his delivery errands and assisting in the farm work, toiling hard until the sun began to sink in the horizon.

“ _*Otsukaresama_ , Gohan!”

“ _*Otsukaresama deshita,_ Father!”

Goku couldn’t resist ruffling his son’s hair like he did when the boy was smaller even if they were almost the same height now, to which Gohan only laughed and playfully tried to wiggle away.

“Take the rest of the day off, son, I’ll finish up here!” The man declared jovially, surprising the boy somewhat. “I know you’re still not fully healed and you just needed a good exercise but I can’t let you push yourself or your mother will kill me.”

“But, Father, really, I’m-”

“Take a day off tomorrow too. You could use the relaxation, and Snappy could use the quality time with you. It’ll do wonders for both your recovery.”

Gohan stared speechless, as Goku waved him off, already walking away and not allowing any room for argument.

_Thank you, Father._

 

Before meeting his pet dragon, he had more or less an hour all to himself while he prepared his bath and got cleaned up. He dropped the cheerful façade as he walked toward their house and allowed himself to mull over the events last Friday afternoon once again. He wasn’t big on confining himself to a corner and licking his wounds while indulging in self-pity, as tempting as that was. He knew couldn’t escape reality no matter how unpleasant, so wasting time feeling sorry for himself was not going to help make things better.

Yesterday -the night of the incident- he took a detour around a neighbouring farm on his way home from school. He headed for the pigsty with occupants who were well-acquainted with him, scooped up handfuls of mud and dirtied himself with it, and after thanking the pigs properly, only then, did he continue his trek home. This had served as his “cover-up” for the torn buttonless shirt, additional scratches, lip injuries and all, pinning the blame on _‘a close shave with drunken bandits’_ when his mother demanded an explanation. It wouldn’t be the first time the story flew with her, although all other instances were truths. This time, however, he simply needed a perfect excuse to indulge in an evening bath longer and more thorough than usual.

He sighed tiredly as he finally submerged his body neck-deep in the wooden barrel’s steaming hot water. He scrubbed his lips until they bled, gurgled over and over, scrubbing the inside of his mouth until he gagged and retched. He took his time in letting the scalding water sterilize him for as long as he dared until he felt his skin shrivel and his flesh sear but he knew that at that point he could only do so much. By the time a high-strung Chi-chi came to see why he was taking forever, he didn’t have to pretend he had fallen asleep while bathing because he actually did, completely exhausted.

When he awoke in his bedroom that Saturday morning, he stripped and faced the full-length mirror, trying to discern which injuries were caused by the sexual assault. He honestly wasn’t sure what he was looking for since he didn’t know what losing his virginity to another guy was supposed to feel or look like in the first place. Heck, he didn’t even know what sex felt like, although he’s had more than ample vivid fantasies about it in the past months. All he knew was that he hurt everywhere, and with his hyperactive mind feeding him a steady stream of what other unspeakable things Tayimaha presumably did to him beyond his knowledge- he couldn’t tell anymore which aches were psychosomatic and which weren’t.

He did expect more pain in his rear quarters and was diffidently relieved there was none. Although, for all he knew that could simply mean that Tamamaha just had a penis size that matched the rest of his pinched body, which would hardly be substantial enough to feel during penetration, let alone cause any damage especially if he used lubrication. Gohan shivered in disgust and shook with anger at the thought, resisting the maddening urge to drive his fist through the wall.

Of course, he wanted to believe in the more unlikely possibility -that very slim chance- that somehow, his assailant didn’t get to go beyond groping and slobbering. But what were the odds of that happening? He was totally vulnerable and Tihahama was even willing to break the law just to have his way with him. There was no one there to stop him nor did he have a reason to on his own, and no matter how he tried to think towards that possibility, the idea that Tihamaha just suddenly grew a conscience and stopped halfway through the deed was somehow even more preposterous to expect than a miracle. His logical mind –no matter how optimistic it wanted to be- just couldn’t make it work. There was only one way things could have ended; with Tihamaya having his way with him.He was most assuredly _raped._  

Gohan had always known reality was harsh, he never denied this nor tried to change it. Which was why he was so drawn to books. Books offered an escape, a choice, somehow. He could always live without limits within its pages, without shackles, without having to lose anything even if he risked it all however which story he chose. Reality was not like that. In reality, there are some things that once you’ve lost is lost forever and can never be brought back. In their new world where girls and boys and everything in between were on the same level, sexual abuse was sexual abuse, regardless. And now that he had to deal with it firsthand, he could safely say that being a boy didn't make being sexually violated feel any less degrading. It wasn’t the virginity or the kisses he lost per se that weighed heavily on his soul, but the feeling that he had lost the right to dream of love- of being loved. He felt dirty and incomplete and-

_Broken._

Like he was used up merchandise only fit to be discarded. And even if he tried to fix himself up to look new again, it would feel like trying to rip someone off at a secondhand store.

And that just made him feel like he didn’t have the right to even look or dream of Piccolo the same way again…

Gohan slapped his palms hard against both cheeks, forcing his mind to stay alert and sober enough to get him through the rest of the day. His hour was up, and by the time he had slipped on a new set of fresh clothes, his carefree smile was back in place. No one had to know if he could help it. The last thing he wanted to see on other people’s faces when they looked at him was pity. Not from his parents, his friends, not even from his dragon. And especially, most important of all…

_Not from Piccolo._

Just for this weekend, maybe he could hold on to his dreams, if only for a little bit more…

**-x-**

 

“Ne, Snappy Dragon…" Gohan spoke up as he finished sewing buttons back on his school uniform. "Do you think there is even the slightest chance that he will like me, in this lifetime?”

Cawing and squawking continued as his five-foot tall baby dragon bounded and tumbled around him, intent on chasing a rabble of bright yellow butterflies that repeatedly perched at the very tip of his beak.

“Yeah, I know… What was I thinking, right?” The teenage half-Saiyajin sighed glumly. The feeling of rough hands still lingered over his body like unshakable creepy crawling critters that relentlessly unsettled his skin and flesh. He scrunched up his stinging eyes and felt that familiar ache in his chest surge up again. _Oh no, stop,_  he thought. _You can’t be like this in front of Snappy!_ He hurriedly wiped the renegade tears that managed to break free but more took its place and he huffed in irritation when he couldn't keep up. _Why do I feel so sad, like my heart won't stop breaking? I didn't really lose anything. That's right, I can't lose something I never had! Whether I was raped or not, nothing has changed! It’s not like Piccolo-san was ever going to be interested in me either way, anyway! Gohan, you are such a dork to think that_ \- “Oof!”

Gohan doubled over in pain after Snappy Dragon had conveniently used his stomach as a trampoline, still too preoccupied chasing after his swarm of fluttering mischievous playmates, not a care in the world, even for his troubled human friend.

“Gee, thanks, Snappy,” Gohan laughed when he had recovered. “I think I needed that.”

Snappy Dragon finally in great spirits after weeks was undoubtedly the highlight of his otherwise tragic week, the arrow injuries on its leg were healing fine now, thanks to the Senzu beans he managed to save. He sighed, lying back down on the grass and once again attempting to soak in the serenity of his surroundings. From this angle, the world looked so peaceful and perfect, like nothing could ever go wrong. He wished reality would just stay like this forever, that he didn’t have to go back to school and face the uglier side of life waiting to tear him apart. If only…

Before Piccolo, everything was just black and white and shades of grey. Being alive was enough to be grateful for and everything else was just of secondary importance. Being part of a world that survived what everyone thought to be the terminal phase of all life on Earth was an awe-inspiring feat to bear witness to. He already loved simply being alive and yet, he had always felt that there was something more -to be so boldly audacious- he felt like there was always a special destiny waiting for him, a deeper reason for all that he was and everything that he has been through. Before he knew it, that silly and senseless inkling that refused to disappear became a secret motivation for him, the added spice that made him look forward to his mundane everyday existence with childlike passion.

When Piccolo happened was the first time the world suddenly lit up in full colour, and just like that, everything was new and beautiful and shiny all over again. The moment he saw the Namek reading under the tree that fateful day was the day he began to understand what being alive truly felt like; _what happiness truly felt like…_ And that he had only always been half alive and half happy. Which is why since then, he began to believe with all his heart –despite the impossible odds that came with it- that he and Piccolo were meant to be together, one way or another. He _just knew_ , that he needed to be near Piccolo – _to see, smell, touch, hear, and be immersed in the Namek’s world, so badly._ No matter how hard that dream seemed to be from where he stood -which was always from a distance- he looked forward to working for it; he knew the best things in life were worth fighting for, and he has never wanted anything as much in all his life. If surviving a planetary holocaust had taught him anything at all, it was understanding the value of making sacrifices for a greater cause. Which is why he never complained, he honestly didn’t mind, no matter how hard or how long it would take, he could be patient. He could wait. He believed that one day, Piccolo would be his friend, and a small but significant part of him dared to dream a bit more- that Piccolo would fall in love with him too. His logical brain knew it was impossible, and yet his heart always saw it –felt it- as clear as reality itself…

Until yesterday… When his heart was shattered and he just couldn’t piece it together again; that secret dream was in fragments now.

Kamisama knows he was willing to keep trying.

But was he still allowed to want Piccolo? If he felt unworthy of such a divine, ethereal being before, he felt ten times more unworthy now. And all because of an ordeal he wasn’t even aware of. Of a crime he wanted so much to prevent. But that was reality for you. _Sometimes wanting something so badly just wasn't enough_. 

_Rape…_

Gohan felt like being stabbed in the chest multiple times wouldn't even come close to how badly this reality hurt every time the word so much as floated up to his conscious mind. As much as he wanted to keep denying it ever happened to him- that was his reality now. _How does one move forward from there?_ He wondered. He supposed he should be grateful he was not conscious the whole time the worst of it happened, but maybe in a way that was just as bad because not knowing was a terrible thing… Not knowing how much he was defiled and manhandled, not knowing how many times he was tongued and fucked- not knowing how much of himself he could still claim as his own or if there was any of him left at all- _it was driving him insane._

He sat up, his blood boiling with pent-up rage. There was no way he was going to let that fucking bastard Tamahooha get away with what he did! As much as the idea of seeing his rapist again disgusted him, he _needed_ to talk with the scumbag face to face! He needed to know everything that was done to him and he needed to make sure that he was punished for what he did! But then, if he wanted to bring Timahama to justice, it follows that the whole world would come to know that he was raped. Can he really handle that? Will he be able to live with it? With the possibility that it would make the distance between him and Piccolo even greater? He knew Nameks as a race had their own grave shortcomings once upon a time, but the lot of them were known to be intensely soulful creatures who valued purity and devotion which was the very foundation of their godlike magic. Ironically, this was also the very reason they were the first ones to be wiped out in the wars- because even if there were clans whose powers were unimaginably strong, the greater portion of them refused to resort to dishonourable means to win the war. He wondered which polarity of the extreme Namekian spectrum Piccolo fitted into…

“Argh!” His fingers irritably raked through his hair. “Why can’t I stop thinking about him, even now…? I should be teaching myself to forget him! Gohan, you are such a stupid- WAAAH!”

His dragon friend’s saucer eyes were suddenly right in front of him, all crammed into his personal space, and before he could recover from the surprise, a huge tongue emerged to pelt his face eagerly, accompanied by more enthusiastic cawing and pawing.

“Awww! Arg, haha! S-stop that, that tickles!” Gohan fell back, trying to push the huge scaly lump of muscle that was his friend. “Great, Snappy!” He wiped his face with his sleeve. “You had to go and steal my second kiss as well! You’re supposed to make me feel better, not attack me! Waahh! No!” More chuckling followed as he was repeatedly poked in the side with a beak; his friend’s playful mood unstoppable. “E-enough! Haha! O-okay, I surrender, you win! Whuddyawant from me??”

Snappy Dragon bent down in front of him, making himself as low as possible, which earned him affectionate patting in the head. Gohan wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes and realized what his friend wanted after some moments of whining.  

“No, Snappy. No flying yet. You’re still injured, remember? Try to get completely better first, alright? Besides, the Tsars usually patrol this area on Saturdays. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves or they’ll go poking around Father’s farm! So- no, no! Listen to me, buddy! Hey, I know! Let’s go for a dip in the lake instead, whuddyasay?” Snappy Dragon squawked gamely as it took chase after the boy’s speeding form. “Race you there!!!”

 

**-x-**

 

The baby dragon proved a happy distraction for what remained of that Saturday and the Sunday that followed, that the demi-Saiayajin almost forgot about his woes. Although, it was virtually impossible to keep his thoughts from wandering to Piccolo, which ended up occupying his mind no matter what he did…

That Sunday night, as he leaned against his sleeping dragon’s side to watch the stars, he was still thinking about the Namek, mostly wondering if Tahahama was right about Nameks not having sex. _Did that mean that Nameks didn’t feel desire or fall in love either?_ Too bad there weren’t many books left that provided reliable information about the Namekian race, not since their ancestors were wiped out and the rest of them disappeared. He had been put into a blissful mood by a nice dream he had the previous night, one of him and Piccolo kissing.

He could feel his cheeks burn at the images he strove to preserve in his consciousness, and how real it all felt that his body always responded to the memory as though it actually were.

_I wonder if Piccolo-san’s lips have ever been kissed…_

 

**-x-**

 

The first school day of the week after the incident arrived, and despite being overly fretful about it, Gohan was surprised that everything went like clockwork.

There was no murmuring in the corridors when he passed, no apathetic stares, not even the slightest wind of unpleasant rumours. Well, not directed at him, at least. Even Trunks and Vimdee treated him like nothing had changed, although he could tell that they were worried and when they offhandedly asked him, he just brushed off his aloof behaviour with a poor excuse of _‘I’m just a bit out of whack, that’s all. I’ll be fine.’_ and he knew they weren’t fooled but they let him off the hook for the time being, to which he was grateful for.   

By the end of the last period, he was quite sceptical about how ordinary everything about that day had been, that even he was having second thoughts about the incident and if he had only dreamt it all up. The weight of not knowing the truth was eating him up all the same and so even if he wanted to ride with the temptation before him to simply forget and pretend that anything atrocious ever happened, he still forced himself to confront his attacker after classes, knowing that it was going to bother him for the rest of his life if he didn’t face the problem right now. He needed answers and if possible- he needed closure, right now.

After drooling over him for some moments, the girls from Tamimaha’s class finally answered his question. He thanked them and walked away, mildly shocked to be told that the said boy didn’t come to school that day and they heard that he would be absent from school for a while because he went on an unexpected trip. Gohan didn’t know how to feel about it. Going on a trip less than three months into the start of school and right after the incident last week? He knew he should be relieved for the most part because that meant that there would be one less nuisance to cause him trouble, but still, he wanted to settle his feelings of unease as soon as possible. With the way things were, it seemed that he wasn’t going to be able to talk to Tamimaya indefinitely. He thought that this prolonged agony was a bit harsh.

With one hour before his sports club activities, he had nothing planned to pass the time. His usual routine would have been to read. But since the incident, he hadn’t felt like picking up a book. Books reminded him of dreams and beautiful things. _They reminded him of Piccolo._ He told himself he shouldn’t look or even think of his Namekian classmate anymore, but even so, he couldn’t help but stare at him during class that day. He would catch himself doing it and look away. But then, he would wake from a trance and find his sights back on Piccolo, not even remembering when he decided to look again. It happened all throughout the day and he admittedly gave up on holding back at some point because he simply couldn’t help himself. He knew all the reasons he shouldn’t be, but he couldn’t stop his heart -as broken as it was- from longing to see Piccolo; _from being in love with him and dreaming of him_.

Maybe that’s all he’ll ever be to me, the half-breed teen thought sullenly. _A dream_. _One beautiful and unreachable dream._ And maybe he should be satisfied for even being allowed to keep that.

 

“Ah-” Gohan blinked up at the librarian who was staring at him expectantly.

One of his favourite books were in his hands. It had been kept a sacred unbroken routine for the past months after class that without even being fully aware of it, his feet had automatically taken him to the library and he had picked out a book to read. When the librarian raised her eyebrow at him, after some more disorientated seconds of gaping, he finally realized that she was waiting for his borrower’s card. He apologized profusely and hurriedly rummaged his satchel for the said item.

Not every student was allowed to take collectible material such as practically antiquated books out of the library. His library card was a special one, one that only students with outstanding deportment were granted. It was one of the biggest reasons he didn’t want his record marred by troublemakers provoking him to engage in scuffles, and the biggest thing he stood to lose if he so much as misbehaved.

By the time he had upturned his bag and emptied all of its contents on the countertop, he was stricken. _His special borrower’s card was nowhere on his person!_ He hadn’t touched his things since Friday night, and his mother knew better than to take anything more out of it other than his love letters. In fact, most times she would be the one ensuring that he had everything he needed packed to go, so having left the item at home was already out of the question.

He marched out of the library, head in a daze. Where could he have lost the card? Could someone have stolen it from him? But what good would that be to anyone else, library cards were non-transferable and nowadays only a handful of students were crazy about mouldy old paperbound books like he was. Trunks and Vimeld often pranked him, but they too, knew better than to mess with a fellow bibliophile’s library card, unless they meant to incite an all-out war. But even then, such a despicable act was considered hitting below the belt and his friends weren’t idiots.

A trip to the Lost and Found section of the school and a thorough combing of the yard where Timayaha had attacked him turned up nothing. By then, he was quite panicked. Suddenly things were thrown into perspective and he realized losing his virginity was only second to losing that card. True, he could easily apply for a replacement, but that card had a very special sentimental value to him which made it virtually irreplaceable!

 

**-x-**

 

_He was rushing out of the library at that time because he knew Piccolo would be there any minute. But in his haste, he bumped into another student and nearly spilled the pile of books he was carrying, if that student hadn’t effectively stopped the said pile from wobbling precariously in his hands. He muttered an immensely relieved ‘thank you so much!’, not even bothering to look up above his load, too flustered by the near accident that would have damaged the priceless books. Only when he began to resume walking and heard a familiar voice call out for him to wait, did his mind fully grasp whose voice it was and who had saved him and his precious books from disaster._

_With his heart doing a ballistic Taiko performance all of a sudden and certain his knees were going to crumble beneath him from a case of adrenaline-overdosed nerves, he turns to see none other than his bedazzling crush, Piccolo, bending down to pick up something from the floor which he gently placed on top of his stack of books._

_“You dropped your card.”_

_Was all he said before turning and walking away._

 

**-x-**

 

It was the first time Piccolo ever spoke to him and though it wasn't even enough to be counted as a conversation, he couldn’t help swoon over it for the rest of his days. Since then, he cherished the card as his most prized possession, considering it a good luck charm that brought him sweet dreams whenever he slept with it under his pillow.

“Piccolo-san touched that card!” Gohan bemoaned, tears beginning to prickle his vision and seconds away from throwing a childish tantrum. He had completed yet another scout of the area, gone over ever rock and leaf and corner too many times to count now and yet still not finding a trace of the missing card. “How could I have lost it?? I’m such a monumental idio-! W-wait a minute…”

Over and over again, his mind ran a quick scan of all the places and people that could have come into contact with his card but something new had surfaced just then. Something he hadn’t realized before. That late Friday afternoon, he hadn’t woken up where he had fallen unconscious… Instead of being at the scene of the crime -the yard where the storage shed was, where Tamihama had presumably left him- he had come to his senses in a completely different place…

_In the rooftop of the school’s central library._

He knew he thought it strange enough when he woke up that day but the detail temporarily slipped as his mind went into autopilot mode from shock right after, working overdrive on figuring out how to avert his mother’s suspicion from what really happened and determining the best course of action to take to be able account for his dishevelled appearance and gain enough time and privacy to assess his situation.

He had already been madly sprinting to the said location as these thoughts ran through his head, and now that he was in front of the said building, he realized that it was even more bizarre than he had initially thought.

 _Why would Tamahima carry him all the way here halfway across the school campus after raping him? Could he even have accomplished such a deed?_ Even when he was almost fully incapacitated the scraggy boy already had so much difficulty overpowering him. The hybrid may not be as ripped as those jocks who beat him up, but he knew he was heavy- too heavy for a normal person to carry, much more so over such a distance. Could his attacker have called someone to do it for him? But again, it wouldn’t make any sense. Why transfer him in the first place? And why here of all places, when he could have chosen a hundred other spots if he simply wanted to hide him? Most crucially of all, because Gohan knew the rooftop of this place was almost impossible to reach.

Even though he used to read all the time up on that very rooftop before, the administration sealed off access to it shortly after school started in Spring… No matter how far-reaching Tahumiya’s connections were, he couldn’t possibly have managed to breach the entrance to the rooftop, for the simple reason that _there was no longer a means to the rooftop_. The area where the stairwell that led to it had been demolished and the entire wing of that floor was under extensive renovation. So unless he could fly… or jump really, _really_ high –some three storeys worth- or maybe, if he was some kind of ninja who was adept with grappling gear, it was fairly impossible to get to the rooftop any other way, because the building's sides were virtually unscalable.

At that point, two things were certain to Gohan:  _Whoever brought him to that rooftop had inhuman climbing or jumping powers. And that person was definitely not Tayamiya._

Circling to the back, he soon found the easiest path to take, via an adjacent one-storey building which he managed to climb to the top from a tree. From there, one still had to jump at least eight metres to the rooftop’s level, which for him, was easily a slice of cake; he could have jumped from the ground to the rooftop if he really wanted to.

He froze soon after his feet landed on the gravelly surface of the rooftop, completely shocked to find another student waiting there, leaning on the opposite wall.

“About time. I almost thought you didn’t want this back.”

The student straightened up and brought to view what he instantly recognized was his library card.

But Gohan couldn’t move nor speak, at the moment his own eyes and ears refused to accept what it was seeing and hearing, utterly convinced that he was not fully awake. So shocked that he didn’t even remember to be overjoyed about being reunited with his lost card, all he could think of was-

“W-why… why are you here?”

That familiar lump was expanding, expanding from his chest up to his throat and he couldn't breathe…!

“P- Piccolo… san…?”

In response, his card was pocketed and fingers began to undo gold-coloured coat buttons in a painstakingly slow and deliberate pace. Gohan was easily hypnotized by those elegant green fingers, becoming lost in the waking dream that was eating away at his brain like starved maggots. Only when the said coat was discarded to one side did he snap back to earth.

"I'm here to make you an offer." 

The Namek casually began to crack his knuckles and loosen the cricks in his neck and shoulders, all the while lessening the space between them. Gohan could have been shot in the head at that moment and he wouldn't have noticed it, because Piccolo--

_Piccolo-san… here… talking to… him?_

It was too much to process too soon.

"Fight me," Piccolo said.

Still, Gohan could afford to do nothing but gawk, as that tall lean form bent low with his knees and arms poised away from his body in what he quickly recognized as a fighting stance.

"If you manage to knock me down  _even just once_ , you can ask of me, anything.”

Gohan’s mind was in a whirl.

“A- a- anything…?”

The corner of Piccolo’s lips lift –ever so slowly- into a smirk.

_“Anything.”_

**End of Episode 5.**  
Continued in Episode 6:  **Theories of Relativity** **…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_*Otsukaresama (deshita)_** \- A polite expression said after work is done, to both thank someone for a job well done and declare that work for that day is finished.
> 
> * * *
> 
> (01/28/2017-02/27/2017)


	7. Theories of Relativity (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Edit** (05/02/2017): Officially beta-read (for the millionth time)! (^u^) Yay.☆ But if you spot any errors I missed, please feel free to point them out. Cheers!

When summed up, there was no other suitable explanation for the stranger than usual behaviour.

_The complete disjunction from reality; the bleak cloud of resignation hanging over him; and most unsettling of all-- the sudden indifference towards the one object of his dire affection._

Trunks Briefs and Videl Satan ended their session that Saturday weekend with unspoken plans brewing. But spoken words weren’t needed between them. They knew each other well enough to know what the entire day of decorous silence meant.

_How to proceed with their friendship from there?_

_Cheer him up? Offer words of encouragement? A shoulder to cry on?_

 

_Or swoop in for the kill while Gohan Son Jr was so raw and malleable--?_

_And **heartbroken.**_

 

If Gohan were in shambles for any other reason except _that_ , their goal would have remained collaborative. But a friendship had never been their end goal from the start, nor was it supposed to be part of the plan.

Trunks Briefs and Videl Satan were the last two people in the universe who would have formed an alliance forged of trust and amity. The convenient “frenemy-ship” was only a circumventive means to an end. To set the stage for a grander -more dramatic- finale for when one of them finally snags what stands to be the greatest prize that they have ever competed against each other for…

 

_Their truce had officially come to an end._

_And the battle has now officially recommenced._

 

**_For absolute and undisputed ownership of Gohan Son Jr._ **

 

\--------x--------

  
6  
**Theories of Relativity  
** (part 1)

  
\--------x--------

 

Capsule Corporation and Satan Enterprises. Fierce competitors. Two goliaths reshaping and vying for a greater scope of their fragile convalescing world.

While Capsule Corporation has consistently been the reigning giant and pioneer when it came to cutting edge state-of-the-art technological innovations- from vending machines, fully automated computer system and information management software, functional fashion and portable gadgets- to transport vehicles, top security and defensive arsenal, biological research and medical equipment, and much more; Satan Enterprises expanded their empire through business ventures and economic investments.

Satan Enterprises founder and owner, Hercule Satan, lived by the principle that as long as he had the money to buy the companies that made the world go round, the world would always revolve around him, which consequently, would propel him to the very top of it all. He was the living, breathing proof of this. What started out as the owner of a small-time run-down martial arts gym, quickly became a household name after having successfully built his empire and expanded it in record time. He would have just as easily taken over the world. But there was only so much of the world he could control if he couldn’t unseat the _one_ company whose reach had umbrellaed over not only the entire planet but even the farthest corners of the known galaxy: _Capsule Corporation._

To this day, all attempts at buying off the humble outfit have fallen flat. For years, in countless TV appearances and magazine interviews, Hercule Satan has openly boasted of his inevitable victory over what remains to be his greatest and most controversial –and yet still impending- conquest; scoffing at the notion that there was still anything these days that money couldn’t buy.

 _To this day,_ however, Capsule Corporation remains a separate entity, even from the government that had enlisted its partnership in matters of the most sensitive nature, keeping the world not only in the palm of Bloomer Briefs’ hand but -quite literally-  _encapsulated in her pocket_.

Being the sole prince and princess of their respective elite families have placed Trunks Briefs’ and Videl Satan’s destinies at odds with each other even before they had formally met. The media and masses were partly to blame for constantly comparing them and fuelling their indirect competition in _everything_. From charity events to supporting socially relevant causes and advocacies, to academic achievements and honours- the list was never-ending. They were, in their own right, celebrities in the more convoluted showbiz worlds of business and politics.

Not being formally acquainted proved no impediment to the crossfire of enmity between them. Nor did it hinder the new generation from forming factions. One side fanatically rooting for one whilst bloodthirstily booing the other. Some groups supported both of them and believed that they’d do more good for the future of the world as a team. Whereas the growing majority of the youth treated them like fashion icons to be idolized and emulated.

For the most part of their early lives, they remained confined to their own comfortable domiciles and territories. There were always the social gatherings and charity events but up until their early teenage years, their paths had never directly crossed. It was only when those respective paths took an unexpected turn in for the same destination that they finally met, or rather-  _superbly collided_. It happened on the day they embarked on their first venture out of home-school…

Following close on the heels of the great wars, came a steep decline in the quality of education, forcing many children to grow up practically illiterate. To ameliorate, stricter educational rehabilitation was enforced in the years that followed, and as a consequence, many whose age brackets would have normally qualified for secondary education were pushed back into primary levels. Having been home-schooled by only the best tutors all their lives, it was no surprise when both Trunks Briefs and Videl Satan excelled in their respective placement exams.

Expecting to be enrolled in no less than the most prestigious of schools, the first real curveball of their lives came in the form of a life-changing announcement. The announcement that they were to enter a “less than prestigious” school so they could have the chance to mingle with normal people and learn to become more responsible; more in touch with the world and its realities. The second more earth-shattering curveball came right after. The revelation that their parents had coincidentally chosen the _same_ “less than prestigious” school. The said school became an historical setting for the official start of their head-on rivalry. A rivalry that, though remained civil enough, only grew fiercer from then onwards. What they never saw coming in the midst of their personal little war, was a boy -of seemingly no special background- to upstage them both so gloriously. Without even trying.

At age thirteen, Videl Satan had aptly qualified to begin her junior high schooling. While Trunks Briefs, the only son of one of the most brilliant minds on the planet, started a year higher; accelerated to the second level of junior high school upon his entry. Achievements they instantly lost bragging rights over, when they discovered that their scores weren’t the school’s top ones to date. The youngest to ever enter junior high was an eleven-year-old by the name of Gohan Son Jr.

For once in their egocentric lives, their attention was plucked away from each other and redirected at the nonentity. To add insult to injury, the queer newcomer who had beaten them without even knowing it, was the only one in the entire campus’ population who didn’t fawn over them or scramble to get their attention. Having lived in the mountains all his life and being too poor to own a television set or computer, he knew nothing of the two supposed public figures and their legendary rivalry. He was an introverted sort -a wallflower whose entire world began and ended at the tip of his nose- in the pages of an open book.

An entire year passed without Trunks and Videl even coming to know of -or more precisely, "acknowledging"- this wallflower's existence. They would hear of an eleven-year-old prodigy every now and then who consistently topped the scores but they refused to believe it was the genuine article, dismissing it as nothing more than beginner’s luck. By their standards, no one so obscure and unheard of was even worthy of being considered a threat. There would always be that ambitious social climber, someone who would come close enough to be noticed by them, but in the end- it would always be just a farce.

The tide began to change in their second year of junior high when the faceless challenger’s scores remained on top of the school’s bulletin boards for an entire year, consistently. It was then that Gohan Son Jr’s name officially made it into Trunks Briefs’ and Videl Satan’s “Must Eliminate” list.

But-  _how to defeat someone who wasn’t even in the contest?_ One who wasn’t even interested in recognition or being under the spotlight? One who always just won first place because his relaxed walking pace was much too fast for everyone else running at full speed to catch up to. Someone who despite no name nor reputation made their motivations seem trivial; their achievements mere child’s play. Everything that he was made them look bad. As long as he kept winning the battle without even being in it, the war became meaningless.

Gohan Son Jr was an intractable problem. The only way they could even begin to cut him down to size was to wade into his world. And in order to do that, it would mean that they would have to first stoop to his level; something they weren’t quite accepting of _yet_ as a necessary sacrifice. Walking up to someone and engaging in friendly conversation about hobbies, interests, _etcetera_ , was something commoners did; something they just didn't do. Trunks Briefs and Videl Satan did _not_ make friends. The adage _“If you can’t beat them, join them.”_ was only for losers.

 

_How to beat Gohan Son Jr?_

_There had to be another, more gratifying way._

 

Whether they wanted to admit it or not, Gohan Son Jr had now become the ultimate prize. The very challenge they knew would be the shiny cherry on top of their exquisite parfait if they could only knock him down and make him acknowledge them. Simply making him a friend would not cut it, it had to be something that would cripple him for good and erase him as potential competition. They had to convert him into an ally they could easily manipulate. It had to be a form of subliminal subjugation that would make him want to relinquish of his own volition.

The answer came to them as they discreetly observed him from opposite sides of the school park one sunny day, as he obliviously munched on his simple lunch of dinosaur meat sandwich and two apples while deeply absorbed in a book.

Innocent, unsuspecting, and defenseless Gohan Son Jr.

_In order for them to destroy him…_

 

**_They needed to make him fall in love._ **

**-x-**

 

It wasn’t the first time the two rivals competed for someone. They competed over everything else and winning attention was always the ultimate objective. The bet was on, as to which of them could win Gohan Son Jr’s heart first. Everyone else was already pretty much infatuated if not downright obsessed with them. Gohan Son Jr was not about to be an exception. The boy’s excessive propriety, social ineptitude, and staggering isolationism were all refreshing to see on such fresh meat, but to them, it was nothing they haven’t seen and already sampled before. _The shy, conservative ones_ were usually the easiest to seduce. They were confident that it would just be a matter of time.  _Time itself too, however, was proving to be on the wallflower's side._  

Eleven-year-old Gohan Son Jr started out with a bordering spindly but (to a keen eye accustomed to sizing it up) above-average sinewy build. He wasn’t much of a sight for sore eyes then, but by the time their second year of junior high took off, he had grown much taller and his body had filled out more prominently. His shoulders had squared out evenly, giving him an impressive stately stature which complimented his overall symmetrically pleasing features while nicely offsetting his boyish mien. His face which had been “cute” for the most part, had now been reshaped by adulthood into that of a strikingly attractive young man's.

Despite the swell of attention following his transition, Gohan remained passive, disinterested even, in any involvement outside the pages of his books. But the more he ignored his adoring public, the more they amassed, and for Trunks and Videl, that meant so did the competition. It wasn't so hard to foresee now: _Gohan Son Jr was becoming someone very important without even knowing it._ Calling dibs on him was climbing up the ladder of their priorities and their lack of progress meant they were losing a worthy future investment, whether it be in the form of a controlling romantic relationship or a political allegiance. Gohan Son Jr just wasn’t noticing them, no matter how they flaunted their grandiloquent social status. The likelihood of him being seen interacting with the lunch lady, the cleaning staff, or some random senior citizen crossing the street was a far more common occurrence.

Before their second year of junior high school drew to a close, they were forced to finally accept that their usual peacocking strategies may have worked on others but had no chance of producing results on Gohan. They had to do something that they had never deigned to even imagine doing before, which was to humble themselves and initiate a friendship like any average person would. And even after that, the only way to maintain that friendship would be to remain in the same dreary plane of existence that Gohan existed in. The world of _self-effacing, impecunious, common folk._ On their part, _an unspeakably macabre sacrifice._ Even so, any true gambler knew that a bigger wager equalled higher stakes, and for people like them, sometimes not losing was even more important than winning. 

There was only one thing more important than all that: _subtlety_. With a delicate reputation and “role model” image to uphold, it would prove to be a crippling blow if anyone learned of their clandestine schemes. They liked to fancy themselves actors in a true-to-life reality soap opera, where they made others believe their lives were flawless orchestrations of fate. Playing out the lead roles in their own carefully engineered drama is how they dealt with the pressures of fame; how they staved off the boredom and mediocrity of perfection. 

It so happened that fate did seem to be playing along, as there _was_ something they could both bank on as the perfect innocuous excuse for wanting to befriend Gohan Son Jr.

 _Books_.

Books were a luxury they could afford. It was no sham that reading and collecting the priceless status symbols were among their choice hobbies. Videl’s preferences leaned towards fantasy and classic literature, whereas Trunks enjoyed history and science fiction. The first step was to make Gohan Son Jr look in their direction and be interested in them. All the rare books any bibliophile would kill for contained within their respective abodes’ opulently furnished private libraries practically ensured that.

The trap was set and all they needed to do was wiggle the bait in his face. Once they’ve reeled him in, he was as good as domesticated.

_Or so they assumed._

**-x-**

 

Being in the same class in their second year, gave Videl Satan the immediate opportunity to make the first move.

Approaching others and taking the initiative to make friends was something she had never done before. It had never been one of her concerns; not when it was usually others who did all the hard work, tripping over themselves just to impress her and be counted among her circle of friends. Nevertheless, she was clever and calculating, and the direct approach –though unfamiliar territory- was a task she could manage well enough; given the right motivation. Something along the lines of “not losing to your obnoxious rival” worked just fine.

Choosing to catch him at a time and location where there wouldn’t be any nuisances, she executed plan A. The good old clichéd but failsafe: “bumping into him” strategy.

“Ohmigosh! I’m so sorry!”

Books came crashing down after she "accidentally" bumped into him when he rounded the corner of shelves, both their views hampered by the stack of books they had been carrying.

“No, _I’m_ sorry. It was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Gohan was already on one knee, sorting out which book was on whose borrowing list.  

“Okay,” Videl laughed (making sure it was her cutest laugh), as she got down on her knees to help. “It’s both our fault then.”

She had a killer smile at the ready, one that she had to keep frozen on her face much longer than her facial muscles appreciated because Gohan wasn’t even looking her way!

The raven-haired boy was completely absorbed in inspecting and double-checking each of the books fastidiously, making sure the precious artefacts hadn’t suffered more than a few dog-ears, which even then, seemed to him a heartrending catastrophe.

Finally, with a sigh, he confirmed to his satisfaction that all the books were in one piece. The tall pile of books were replaced on her arms and Videl noted with rising panic  _that he was turning to leave!_ Her aching facial muscles relapsed into a frown. _Wasn't she important enough to check for injuries too?!_ She inwardly fumed. _The nerve!_ Clearly, this guy’s priorities weren’t in place! She mentally zapped him zero points for gentlemanliness and decided it was time to resort to plan B!

“Gosh, hey! You know, I have never seen anyone as into books as I am! I thought I was the only one in the world!” She punctuated her casual greeting with a demure laugh, hoping that using the infallible topic of their mutual interest as an opener would suffice. (She honestly would much rather not get into plan C.)

The mention of the magic phrase _“into books”_ did the trick. Big brown inquisitive eyes finally regarded her. _Ugh! At last!_ Summoning the sweetest, most genial of her practised smiles, she rebalanced her stack of books before extending what she could of her hand.

“Videl. Videl Satan. Nice to meet you, uhm-?”

Her hand stayed suspended a bit longer than customary for a proffered handshake and her confidence wavered for a fraction of a second along with her load of books, but finally--

“Uh, hi… Gohan. Gohan Son.”

He accepted her handshake but instantly noticing his mistake.

“Oh, crumbs! Here, let me help you with that.”

He relieved her of the weight and impressively hauled their combined mountain of hardbound books like it was made of marshmallows, safely depositing it on top of one of the empty tables by the window where they both settled into seats across each other.

“So,” Videl cleared her throat and peered down at his books. “What are you reading?”

His voice was an unexpectedly soft and squeaky tenor. Hearing him talk so animatedly all of a sudden was something she was unprepared for that it took her some minutes of adjusting to. It was usually the other way around, with others wanting her to do all the talking. Truthfully, she had forgotten what it was like to be the one listening for a change and she was forced to relearn it on the spot.

Gohan Son was unexpectedly buoyant and refreshingly void of pretense. His smile was so bright it practically radiated warmth and his eyes twinkled like diamonds against a sea of dark chocolate. And those lips… she was sure she’s never seen lips so red, as perfectly ripe and shiny as a picture-perfect apple. Half the time was spent mesmerized, trying to discern if it was lipstick or lip-gloss, but she eventually conceded it wasn’t –going by how he repeatedly pursed, licked, and gnawed on it as he kept explaining whatever it was he was going on about…

Videl reaffirmed that Gohan actually wasn’t her type at all.

Which is why it baffled her. Why her blood was pumping wildly in her veins and why she felt strangely winded. _Okay, chill, Videl. He’s charming, yes, I’ll give him that. Sure, he seems like the ditzy type, but still really cute nonetheless. Of course, the fact that he smells delicious and that his body is chiselled like a Grecian statue is ridiculously impossible to ignore…!_

She mentally shook herself out of her uncharacteristic stupefaction and reminded herself that all that mattered was getting him to fall for her. That's it. Once she got him chasing after her like a puppy, she’d be turned off and over him faster than he could even say ‘woof!’, just like how it had been with every other guy.

He was waving goodbye before she knew it, snapping her out of her trance and she realized that she hadn’t been able to process a single word he said, so completely bowled over by the peculiar quality of his voice and manner. He was, she decided, the very opposite of the lot she normally surrounded herself with. He didn’t talk like he wanted to please her the way everyone else usually did. It was, in fact, the very first time that anyone had ever spoken to her so casually…

It was… a  _weird_ experience. 

And maybe…

A  _little_  interesting.

 

**-x-**

 

Trunks Briefs had an edge over Videl. Sure, it was ten years stale, but still— better late than never, right?

He had been hearing about it from his mother for years but he never paid attention. He knew that his mother had a “special patient”, the son of one of her childhood friends who was in need of Capsule Corporation’s “special care”. This patient came to his mother’s facility every quarter to be treated for some kind of birth flaw or DNA incompatibility disorder. That’s all he cared to know about it, not bothering to remember the unfortunate patient’s name. Trunks Briefs was thoroughly invested in the concept that everyone else who wasn’t him or his mother was an insufferable moron; that everyone else who wasn’t him or his father was a negligible weakling. How much lesser could he afford to care about some handicapped boy from the mountains whose Ki was always on the blink? Infinitely _much_ lesser.

Until the summer of his second and final year of junior high school, that is…

 

He was walking with his mother to the subterranean facility of Capsule Corporation, when the name of the “sick” boy he had always deemed unworthy of his attention finally registered in his brain.

“Whoa. Wait. Gohan Son? You mean, Gohan Son Jr? Gohan Son Jr is your special patient?!”

Bloomer Briefs looked up from the charts she had been reviewing on her tablet device. “Yes. I’ve been telling you about him for years now but you never seemed interested. Why that reaction now?”

“Uh, oh. Nothing. We just, uhm, we go to the same school! Imagine that!”

His mother’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at the obvious flimflam. She knew Trunks too well by now. He was a good kid… But his attitude had… “room for improvement”. (She liked to think he got those from his father.)

“I did mention that detail before, as well. I _did_ tell you he would be entering your school.”

“We _are_ talking about the boy from Mount Paozu that you and Dad were arguing about before, right? The one with some kind of genetic defect that was like gross Ki incontinence or something?”

“I don’t recall ever saying anything about a genetic ‘defect’. But that’s an interesting assumption.” Bloomer went back to scanning her notes. “Something your father would have thought of.”

Trunks flinched. His mom wasn’t very keen on the habits he picked up from his dad.

“Well, if it isn’t a defect, what is it then?”

“He has alien blood. But that’s all I can tell you for now.”

“Whoa! He’s an X-jin?? I wonder what crappy race that can’t control their Ki he’s from!”

Bloomer laughed despite herself, choosing to ignore Trunks’ inquisitive stare. “Okay, I have to work now, off you go!”

“Mom! I’m not a kid anymore, stop treating me like one!”

“Hm, it’s hard to tell. You’ve been saying that since you were five.”

“I’m fifteen years old!”

“Alright, alright. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. You still need to get your fifteen-year-old butt out of my lab. And pronto. So skedaddle, now.”

“But I want to see if he’s the same boy from our school!”

“I _seriously doubt_ there can be _any other '_ Gohan Son Jr' on this planet.”

"C’mon, Mom. I just wanna watch! Please…?”

“Well, you can’t. This test is monitored by a bunch of Ki Tsars. Everything beyond this point is highly classified and I’m the only one authorized to enter.”

“Aw, Mom! Can’t I at least watch from the console in your lab?”

“Not unless you want to get both our asses in trouble.”

Trunks pouted, puffing his cheeks in disappointment.

Bloomer stopped in mid-stride to round on her son. “What’s up? C’mon, spill.”

“Huh? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just curious, that’s all. I swear!”

“Well, _I swear_ , you’ve never been _this_ curious before.”

“Well-! I’m curious _now_. Is it too late to be?”

“Hm.” The teal-haired scientist resumed walking. “Depends on what mischief you’re up to.”

Trunks stared after his mother’s disappearing form before stomping off in the direction he had come from.

 _Shit._ Gohan Son Jr was right there! In his house! He would have had a head start and won this wager, like, yesterday! if only he knew that the boy he had been ignoring was going to be their next grand prize!

No matter. It’s not like he needed a boost to win anyway. He was assured of the fact that all he needed to do was befriend Gohan and everything would smoothly go his way from there. That boy was as good as his! No one in their right mind can resist his charms.

 _Still_ , maybe a little advantage wouldn’t hurt. He could always hack into his mother’s files during the three-hour window she slept before the crack of dawn. He’s done it lots of times before whenever his dad was scheduled to report for Ki-limiter recalibration and no one else was allowed to watch…

 

Trunks’ plan was foiled, however, when to his dismay, he was only able to successfully hack into the timed freeze-frame shots back-up coverage of the procedure. Every other piece of information on the test that afternoon was secured on multiple levels. Records of previous tests and related information on Gohan Son Jr were even more heavily encrypted.

The lavender-haired teenager returned to his room with a low whistle, spectacularly boggled at the unexpected turn of events. For the first time in his life, he was met with an obstacle he couldn't get past (for the time being).

 _How was it that the data of a nobody was even more top secret than his father’s?_ Okay, so he was an X. But his father was a _Super Saiyajin._ One of the strongest X-jins in the galaxy…

_Just what alien blood did Gohan Son Jr have? And why was the government so interested in him?_

This bet with Miss Satan was turning out to be even more thrilling a hunt than he expected. Pulling out his phone, he slides it open and quickly types in a message before he padded to the gym for his morning workout. 

_It seems that Gohan Son Jr might not be as unspecial as they had first thought he was…_

 

**-x-**

 

Videl Satan had just finished her morning jog and was about to step into the shower when her phone’s assigned bleep told her she had just received a message from her least favourite person, Mr Briefs himself. She flips the device open and reads the message…

 

> **_Capsule Dork:_ ** _Why don’t we up the ante on this bet?_

 

**-x-**

 

On his end, Trunks promptly accepts the request to chat over their private line:

 

> **_Satan:_ ** _What do mean, exactly?_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _We need to stake our claim on this guy as soon as possible._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _…_
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _What’s the rush? Getting uptight?_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _Aren’t you?_
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _I don’t see how upping the ante can make him fall in love with either of us faster… There are some things you can’t rush._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _Falling in love is such an abstract concept. Let’s put it in more… scientific, more tangible terms._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _?_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _We need to prove this "falling in love" shit more than the moony eyes and overrated poetry._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _You’re saying he needs to sign a formal testimony? Or are you suggesting that this deal should be sealed in holy matrimony?_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _I’m saying…_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _The one who gets to fuck him is the victor._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Ugh. You’re such an a-hole! Sex doesn’t prove love!_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _No, it doesn’t. But I’m willing to bet that for guys like him, it is the ultimate proof of love._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _…_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _The whole point of this is to posses or crush the nerd, not mollycoddle him._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _…_
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Right._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _At this rate, if he isn’t raped or hypnotized into sleeping with someone, I’m pretty sure he’ll die a virgin. Unless you count sex with books. So are you still in? Or are you worried you can’t keep up?_
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _You wish._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Getting him drunk or under the influence of stimulants or aphrodisiacs doesn’t count as a victory._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _I need those just as much as I need fake breasts to get the job done. No offense meant._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Riiight. Coming from Mr Macho Guy with the *pixie hair* and *sissy ponytail*._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _…_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _I won’t even reply to that._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _It doesn’t count if he’s unconscious or unwilling._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _That goes without saying. It doesn’t count as a victory but it doesn’t mean we can’t have fun with him while we’re trying to “win over his affections” either._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Anyone who falls in love with him for real, loses._
> 
> **_Briefs: _…__ **
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _Are you sure you want to add that last clause?_
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Are *you* sure you’re okay with it?_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _You do know the whole ‘bi’ front is an act, right? I’m open when it comes to sex, but romantic candlelit dinners with dudes aren’t my thing._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Could’ve fooled me._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _I’m willing to bet he’s the queer one. So good luck there._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Never underestimate what a woman can do._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _How do we even prove that? We can easily deny it and say it’s all just part of our stratagem. Besides, if one of us *does* fall for him for real -which I can tell you now is not going to be me- I’m sure you’d forfeit on your own. It’s implicit._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _What if *you* fall for him?_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _Not gonna happen._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Fine. Since we can’t agree on that, scratch it._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _I *do* have a proposal I’m sure we’ll agree on because it’ll be beneficial to us both._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Since when have you been so munificent?_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _Since never._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _This is more like I don’t have a choice. Something tells me this is going to be a waiting game._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _What are you suggesting? That we should lay off him?_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _I’m suggesting…_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _That we should move closer and box him in while we can._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _…_
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _‘We’?_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _It’s the only way we can maintain an advantage. We have to work together and become his closest friends._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _We have to pretend to be chummy now?? I think I’m going to puke._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _It’s been almost a year. Think about it, if we don’t work together, our chances aren’t going to get any better. The greater the sacrifice, the sweeter the victory._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Ugh…_
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _He’d better be one hell of a sex god. This "sacrifice" is my *worst* nightmare._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _Just getting to see him naked will make your “suffering” worth it, trust me._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _?!_
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _You’ve seen him naked?? Is this the reason for the drastic step up??_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _Yes. And maybe._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Fuck you._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _Not my fault he’s a patient at CC._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _This had better *equally* increase our chances or else…_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _More than anything, it will secure our chances over others. If we box him in, everyone else will know he’s our territory and they’ll back off. We’ll know everything about him- at the same time. We’ll even be able to closely monitor anyone who tries to get close to him and shut them out. But we’ll only be able to do all of this, *without* Gohan Son Jr suspecting a thing, *if* we pretend to be best buddies with him._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _Close-quarters. Underhanded combat._
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _You know what they say about keeping your enemies close._
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _And your prospective bedfellows closer?_
> 
> **_Briefs:_ ** _Equal stakes and advantages. He’ll eventually fall for one of us out of familiarity. We need to cosy up to him to get his trust. He’s compulsively socio-homeostatic like that. If we don’t get inside and make him depend on us, we’ll remain on the outside._
> 
> _**Satan:** _…_ _
> 
> **_Satan:_ ** _What if he falls for someone outside our "tightknit cosy clique"?_

**-x-**

 

 

>   _‘We'll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen. That’s why we’re teaming up.’_

**-x-**

Spring of the next school year welcomed the three friends, reunited on the grounds Orange Star Intergalactic Academy, their new school…

 

* * *

 

_Bathed in a swirling vortex of cherry blossom petals falling in slow-motion._

_His world was all golden white, blushing pinks, lustrous greens--_

_And fathomless blue…_

_Captured in his eyes, there was no concept of time-_

_Only the first moment…_

_And forever._

 

* * *

 

**_The day Gohan Son Jr fell in love for the first time…_ **

 

**-x-**

 

“Hey, are you alright, Gohan-kun? You’ve been spacing out since you got here…”

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over one tardy. Besides, you’re in luck, the teacher isn’t here yet.”

“Huh? Uh, no, it’s not that, it’s-- oh- _Kamisama…_ ”

Videl followed Gohan’s shocked gaze to the front of the classroom where the teacher had just entered, followed by -judging by his uniform- a student.

“Alright everyone, I know it’s already been a week since class started, but we have a new student who will be joining us starting today. Would you care to introduce yourself?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Oh, dear. Well, okay. If you’re shy, I’ll do the honours for you then. You may take your seat. His name is Piccolo Daimaoh Jr and he’s from Namek! Isn’t that exciting? Let’s all welcome him and continue to help each other along, shall we? Great! Now open your books to page-”

But Videl heard no more of their teacher’s voice as she caught sight of Gohan.

 _The dilated pupils, the shallow ragged breathing, and the flushed cheeks._ In the three years she’s known him, she’s never seen her friend like this before…

“G-Gohan-kun _…_?”

For the entire class, he remained jumpy and distracted. She could hardly get him to acknowledge her presence anymore; catching him every few minutes stealing glances at their new classmate. She didn’t want to believe it. But _all the symptoms were there._

By the time the bell rang, she had confirmed it.

She pulled out her mobile phone, typed up a message and sent it.

 

**-x-**

 

The last period of Trunks’ class had just ended when he felt his device buzz in his coat pocket.

 

> **_Satan Girl:_ ** _Uhm. We might have a… *little* situation. I think I finally know what Gohan’s type is. It isn’t either of us. But someone just as controversial._

**-x-**

A message popped up on Videl’s screen in a matter of seconds:

 

>   ** _Capsule-Dork:_ ** _You’re fucking joking right?? He’s in love?? With someone else??_  

 

Videl watched Gohan shoot up from his chair and bolt out the door as soon as their new classmate had ambled out. She bristled in mild annoyance. He didn’t even remember she existed.

She typed up, _‘No. Oh yes. And yes.’_ then sent it. Almost instantly, her phone buzzed a response

 

>   ** _Capsule-Dork:_ ** _Alright. Shoot me…_

 

 

> _‘…Who the hell is he in love with??’_

 

**-x-**

 

**_'The last and only known survivor of the defunct Daimaoh Dynasty.'_ **

 

 

 **End of Episode 6.**  
Continued (soon) in Episode 7:  **Theories of Relativity** **(part 2)** **…**  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of Episode 6 (which is really chapter 7) of this story, this officially becomes the first longest running multi-chapter I’ve ever written (in my life!). I didn’t intend for this story to be this slow a burn though, but I am enjoying myself even if the editing is killing me. (Will I be able to keep going until Kami knows how many chapters? Haha. We're hardly even at the climax, nyah!)
> 
> * * *
> 
> **RE: Gift Stories** To those whom I’ve promised gift stories, rest assured, they are in the works! Thank you for your kind patience! Cheers!
> 
> * * *
> 
> (01/28/2017-04/30/2017)

**Author's Note:**

> Story #3: **“The World Is The Distraction”** & all related Derivative Fanwork/Characters/Concepts & Ideas  
>  ©2015-2017 MariekoWest
> 
> * * *
> 
> **X-posted** : [MewrSaidTheCat](https://www.fanfiction.net/~mewrsaidthecat) {FFnet}
> 
> * * *
> 
> **My Hetalia Works** : [LM_Artless](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MariekoWest/pseuds/LM_Artless) {AO3} / [lovemeartless](https://www.fanfiction.net/~lovemeartless) {FFnet}  
>  **Works Archive:** [M(☆)W: The Asteroid E2-13](http://mariexfolie.blog.fc2.com) {fc2}


End file.
